


Trampled Sunflowers [MOTHER 3 AU]

by carnagekid



Category: Mother 3
Genre: Explicit Language, Gen, Mother 3 AU, Violence, child endangerment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2020-09-08 02:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20286208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carnagekid/pseuds/carnagekid
Summary: This fanfic is associated with https://trampledsunflowersau.tumblr.com/





	1. Forest Fire

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic is associated with https://trampledsunflowersau.tumblr.com/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Graphic violence/Major character death ( AKA the Drago attack )

“Should we get the Colonel?”

  
Fassad shakes his head. “We aren’t notifying the Colonel unless absolutely necessary. We’re going to track the Drago ourselves and return it back to the lab while it’s still under control. Do I make myself clear, Lieutenant?”

  
“Yes sir.” The major nods.

  
“Good, now go get search teams put together. We don’t have time to wait until this gets out of hand.”

  
“Yes sir.” The major salutes briefly before marching out the room.

  
They’re in the Chimera Laboratory, more specifically. Fassad is mostly making rounds to breathe down the neck of each researcher to check on any progress reports of just where they might be able to track the monster down. So far, they’ve made absolutely no progress, much to Fassad’s dismay.

  
That’s until about fifteen minutes later.

  
There’s warnings on a fire that’s very suddenly and quickly grown in the forest. It isn’t too far, and, considering it's a fire that’s reached violently uncontrolled heights within a very short span of time... It must be where the Drago is. Everyone is sure of it.

  
“It’s too dangerous.” A doctor concludes.

  
“We may need the Colonel to resolve this as quickly as possible.” Another suggests.

  
There’s only a darkening expression creeping and twisting the Magifolk’s features. They always want to fall back on the Colonel-- what gives? Sure, they all worship him, but it wouldn’t kill them to be a little independent for once when facing a problem that proves to be serious. “We don’t need him, there’s enough of us to neutralise this pest without difficulty.”

  
“How do you suppose we’ll do that, Fassad?” It’s a voice from behind him, but Fassad immediately recognises it regardless of that fact.

  
“...You…” The Magifolk mutters.

  
“Yup, it’s me.” The Colonel replies. His mask hides his features, but that somewhat amused tone is heard creeping into his voice. He dips forward just a tad to come into the Magifolk’s peripheral vision. “Really, though, I’d like to hear what you have in mind. Even if you should be focusing on the location of the Hummingbird Egg like I’ve originally instructed. But-- go ahead. Tell me what you suggest we do to resolve this complication. I’d really like to know.”

  
He’s taunting him, the Magifolk knows that much. And before he can get a word in, the Colonel continues.

  
“Fassad, I’d really like you to understand that I am not here to create conflict with you. If you continue to go against my plans without speaking to me first, then we are going to fail--”

  
“I get it!” Fassad shouts. No one bats an eye at his shouting, especially considering he is prone to losing control of his composure when the Colonel is speaking with him. He can’t help it… every single word that comes out his mouth is just so infuriating. “I’ll get right onto tracking the artifact down, _sir._” He spits. The Colonel, of course, is unfazed by the outburst.

  
“Thank you, Fassad. I’m glad you could understand where I’m coming from.”

  
It’s the last thing he gets to hear as he exits the room, seething.

  
“Alright,” The Colonel begins. All eyes have turned to him at this point. “I only need one question answered before I resolve the problem: Do you want it returned dead or alive?”  
The researchers look amongst one another before one raises their voice. “Whatever is necessary. It clearly needs major readjustments.”

  
The man gives an approving nod in response, then teleports out of the room in the blink of an eye.

* * *

There’s an eerie screeching sound of the Drago’s robotic parts that causes the twins to shake. They’re stuck. There’s nowhere to go other than the edge of the cliff behind them as the flames just climb higher and higher to eat up everything in its path. Beyond the crackle and thunder of the trees beginning to moan and fall, however, there is a petrified silence in this little world of theirs. It was only moments ago that their mother had been right in front of him before having witnessed the Drago’s mighty jaws and jagged teeth take such a horrifyingly _easy_ hold of her body only to jerk her around from side to side and send her through the flames-- right out of the twins’ sight.

He's scared. Honestly and truly, both twins are undoubtedly horrified. There's this headache that overwhelms everything else in Lucas' mind, however. It'd started ever since the Drago first set the forest ablaze, and he hasn't been able to stop himself from crying even before the beast had taken their mother. He can hear the sound of cries... the inhuman kind, yet something he's managing to understand so well regardless of that. He can almost see the amalgamation of the panic, the fear, and the rage all laid out so clearly in front of him with a life of its own. Each painful moment churning all behind the eyes of the mangled Drago which silently watches for anymore sudden movements. Lucas doesn't want to move, but he can't tell if it's out of fear or out of a strange desire not to hurt her anymore than she's been hurt already.

What happened to her? What did they do? Why is she hurting _them_ for it-?

Claus, however, is simply in a desperate search to bridge the gap between them and their mother. There’s a disturbing gurgle bubbling up from where Hinawa lies, and all earlier thought is forgotten as Lucas’ eyes widen in terror when the lick of flames occasionally offer a very small sight of the carnage strewn across the forest’s floor. Claus just has to ignore it best he can to find any way possible to reach her. He just wants her okay-- just needs to be at her side and know that she’s going to be okay and that he can fix it somehow.

But Lucas no longer can feel that warm presence of hers.

  
As soon as the Drago’s head turns, however, he spots an opening between the flames blocking their path. “Lucas! Here!” He starts in a desperate cry, breaking out into a run ahead of his younger sibling. “Mom!”

  
But Lucas doesn’t follow suit since his focus is entirely on the large beast at this point. Instead, he screams. “Claus-- _DON’T!”_

  
But he can’t get his attention in time. The Drago lunges forward. Everything happens in a horrifying instance of blood-curdling screams and the shrill sound of metal scraping. The earth quakes and the trees bend and break. The last thing Lucas sees is Claus’ body being hurled just past him. He reaches out in attempts to catch him before he goes all the way over the cliff, but his grip is only enough to last seconds until his twin plummets into the river below.

The only thing left of him is the blood on Lucas’ hands.

  
“CLAUS!” Lucas wails.

  
His vision blurs as his head hangs over the cliff’s edge. He shakes violently, unable to break his mind out of this newborn sick, twisted nightmare of his to notice the Drago approaching him from behind. He fails to notice the roar which rattles his ribcage and the earth below him. Fails to notice the cold air born from the dying flames. Fails to notice the hand touching his shoulder. Claus is gone. He just had him in his hands only moments ago. His ears ring. His heart pounds. What’s going on? What’s happening? Why?

  
Why? Why? Why? Why? Why--

  
“Hey.” His voice is soothing. Gentle. Lucas flinches regardless of that. “You don’t look well… come on.”

  
But Lucas doesn’t move, so the Colonel lets out a quiet sigh and turns his head to examine the scene. Must have been his mother… so then why is he staring at the _river?_ Did he lose something? The man watches the blond momentarily, but decides to drop it for later as he instead lifts the child up into his arms and moves away from the cliffside, walking around the Drago’s fallen body.

  
“Close your eyes, okay? And don’t let go of me.” He instructs.

  
Lucas very slowly does so, tucking his face into the shoulder of the other’s uniform in a weak attempt to block out the deathly silence of the world. There’s this moment where he feels as though they’re floating which nearly tempts him to look up… but he doesn’t.

  
They’ve teleported into a quiet, mostly empty room. The man sets Lucas into a chair before pulling a blanket from the bed and wrapping it over his shoulders. “Wait right here, I have something I need to do still, okay?”

  
He is completely unresponsive.

  
So the Colonel doesn’t bother him any further. Rather, he simply dials into something at his wrist before speaking into it. “Hey-- there’s been a slight change of plans. The Drago’s been neutralised, but I’ll need someone to pick it up. I’ll send you the location in a second-- Yeah. I’m busy right now.”

  
Lucas’ head is too muddled to really listen or understand anything that he’s saying-- he’s only watchful of the other the best that he can be for any threatening motions. It’s only just now that he realises this man in a white uniform and strange mask is… completely unrecognizable. He flinches when the taller lets out a long sigh.

  
“We can get a change of clothes for you since the ones you have are all dirty… I can help start a bath for you and show you what you need to do to turn it off and all that, sound good?”  
The boy just stares, his eyes large and round. At that, the Colonel lets out another sigh.

  
Guess he sort of expected this to happen, though… So he’s forced simply to leave the child overnight.

* * *

”Hey,” The man coos. It’s the next morning-- and Lucas is still dirty with the soot, mud, and dried up blood on his hands. He’s unresponsive... ( doesn’t even seem like he slept at all ) which isn’t what the Colonel wants. So…. he tries again.

  
“Your name-- could you tell me?”

  
“ … ”

  
“...Do you know where you live?”

  
“ … ”

  
“...I’d really like to help you, you know.”

  
Yet again… no response. It isn’t exactly a surprise-- in fact, he’d predicted this outcome. One last attempt is made. “I could get you something to eat or drink, but you’re going to need to wash up first.”

  
Of course, he’s met with plenty of more staring. And so the Colonel shrugs and exits the room-- he’ll just have to try again later.

  
Around evening, however, he ends up surprised to find Lucas no longer in the same spot as before but instead lying asleep in bed. What’s even more is that he’s actually decided to bathe and accept the change of clothing. So, instead of pestering him this time, he takes the dirty clothes to be cleaned and leaves without another word.

  
The morning after that proves a little bit smoother, which is something that the Colonel can point to him probably finally slipping out of his stupor after the traumatic event. There’s no doubt that it’s been severely detrimental to his mental health-- even an idiot could see that much. The Colonel enters the room with a small plate of food and a glass to accompany it. It isn’t enough to be a whole meal, mostly because he can only guess the boy is in no state of mind to be having an appetite at the moment.

  
“Hey,” He tries in a gentle voice. Lucas slowly looks up from the bed at the other. Despite what’s just happened… there’s a strange glimmer in his eye that the Colonel notes. Some bizarre determination that he can’t quite place.

  
The blond proves him right by the way he slowly sits up and holds his hands out for the plate. And so, the man hands him the plate before sitting himself on the floor across from the other.

  
“Looks like your doing a little bit better. You want to talk?”

  
...No response.

  
“...Is that okay? The food, I mean… I made it myself, so I hope it is.”

  
There’s a long moment of silence, but the boy eventually gives a slow nod. “...Thank you.” He murmurs.

  
“Oh, good-- it’s no problem.” The smile is heard from beneath his mask.

  
And… that’s all they share with one another until falling back into silence. Lucas eventually finishes his meal, and so the Colonel collects the dishes. “Is that all?”

  
The blond flinches, then looks the other way. “...Yeah.” He mumbles. Or, _no_\-- he’d talked about going home yesterday… He needs to ask about that. He should probably ask. But, as soon as Lucas turns his head up towards the man to do exactly that... he’s gone.

  
It turns out to be his last chance, too, since the Colonel doesn’t even return later that day. But other strange and intimidating pigmasks that cycle all the way through into the day after that-- the truth of the matter simply is that he’s very quickly grown too busy to keep spending so much time tending to him.

Not that Lucas exactly knows or understands that, however.


	2. The Hummingbird Egg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fanfic is associated with https://trampledsunflowersau.tumblr.com/

“Who is this?” The Colonel sighs out. Before him is a girl with short, hot pink hair that’s somewhat reminiscent of Fassad’s in a strange way ( but they obviously couldn’t be related ). She has those same determined eyes as the boy currently under his care-- something that certainly proves to fascinate the Colonel without a doubt. But, it doesn’t explain why she’s here at all. Fassad is always reckless in situations where the tension is high. He has no clue if this girl has a family or not, and if they return her then the Colonel may very well be forced to take all the blame for the Magifolk’s actions.

“Kumatora.” The girl snaps, that wild and bold nature of hers certainly shining through by the way she attempts to puff up her chest and stand at full height. The other pigmasks, however, force her right back into her place.

He can’t help but feel a bit impressed by the attitude. It’s reckless for certain, but he’ll be damned if she doesn’t have heart. Heart, however, does not mean anything when he has no idea why she’s even here to begin with. The Colonel barely has even met this girl. What he is most concerned with is her purpose for being here at all.

“What’s an innocent girl doing in my office right now?” The man inquires, his head turning towards Fassad in search of an explanation.

“She’s here,” Fassad begins, “because she had a hand in attempting to obstruct our goals to obtain _ this. _” There’s a slight flick of his hand, and another pigmask comes forth with the Hummingbird Egg. This, of course, has the Colonel leaning forward in his seat with renewed interest and recognition.

“_ Bravo _, Fassad.” He remarks in an undoubtedly impressed voice, gesturing for the soldier to hand him the artifact. The soldier steps forward, their head bowed slightly with submission when bringing it forth. The Colonel greets the item with admiration once it’s in his hands. “King P. will definitely be delighted to hear about this. Might even give you a raise, huh?”

Fassad scoffs, “As if money means a damn thing to me.”

There’s a pause as a curious silence falls over the Colonel while examining the Egg. “...So, your plans with the girl?”

“I suggest we have her detained. She may prove useful for the Needles--”

“Permission granted.”

Fassad is nearly taken aback to hear such immediate approval. No, scratch that, he_ is _taken aback. The Colonel had cast clear signs of both doubt and disapproval over his actions just moments ago. Why should this change his tune so quickly? “...Just like that, huh?”

The Colonel looks up to the Magifolk. “Well…_ yeah _. Fassad-- this is very excellent progress that you’ve made. If all you ask in return is to keep Kumatora detained then by all means, go ahead. I would like to hear more of your thoughts on what potential you see. Regardless of this, though, I find it necessary to warn you not to act so recklessly in the future. We can’t be making an enemy out of the townsfolk. All precautionary measures must be taken accordingly.”

“Hey, I’m right here, jackass!” Kumatora shouts. “You can’t just _ keep _ me hostage here like that!”

“Of course, Colonel. I try very hard to make wise decisions. I am very confident in my judgement for this girl.” Fassad looks to Kumatora, then simply orders for her to be taken away. It’s one of the few decisions the Colonel agrees with, seeing that her wild nature is a bit_ too _ rowdy and disruptive for his liking. That is proven by her consistent shouting and writhing within the soldiers’ grasp. In the end, though, her efforts are (predictably) in vain. When it’s just the pair left in the room, Fassad turns to look at the Colonel once again.

“You’re familiar with ‘chosen’ ones, correct?”

“A tale as old as time,” The Colonel replies, “Yes, I’m familiar. Does that girl have something to do with it?”

“She does, actually. Beyond that-- I believe she is very familiar with the protectors of the Needles. With her, we may have a much better chance of discovering their locations.” Fassad explains.

To that, the Colonel leans back in his chair with a thoughtful hum, then stands with the Hummingbird Egg tucked protectively beneath his arm as he makes his way from his office and down the hall.

“And… about _ pulling _ the Needles, there really is no alternative?”

“I’m afraid not,” Fassad states, following the taller man to the elevator.

“Then I suppose we’ll have to just find whoever has this ‘PK Love’ ability.” He sighs and stops before the elevator doors. That’s going to prove itself a bit of a hassle, but it will hardly mean anything in the grand scheme of things as soon as they accomplish that task.

From Fassad, there is a very long and quiet silence. To the Colonel’s surprise though, he decides to speak up. Perhaps it’s the realisation that the man is going to leave very soon. Vital information such as this is not something the Magifolk will allow to remain unheard. “The kid, the one in your custody at the moment? I think he’d prove himself very useful.”

The Colonel scoffs, which earns a glare from the other. “Child labour? Really? I knew you were a vile man, Fassad, but I’d call that too far-- even for you.”

“I’m being serious.”

“And so am I,” He responds. “That kid… no, that _ child _ is clearly harmless and it’d be a waste of time to try to get more out of him…”

Fassad’s hand is raised to stop him politely as possible. “And that, Colonel, is the major difference between us. If you trust my opinion on that girl, then you will trust my opinion on the boy as well. I’m telling you that he has very strong psionic potential. Do you know any of his abilities?”

“Of course I don’t. He’s been through a traumatic experience and is just barely beginning to talk to me now. What do you _ expect _me to know?”

“God-- you know what? I’ll handle this.”

Another scoff. “You’ll get nowhere and traumatise the poor thing even more, I’m sure.”

Fassad rolls his eyes. He can tell the conversation’s conclusion is about to be reached the moment that the elevator doors open up, because the taller is already stepping inside before they've finished speaking. “It’s behaviour like this that makes it so difficult to respect your wishes. Just _ consider _ what I’ve said.”

And so the Colonel promptly presses a button to shut the doors on Fassad mid-sentence. It’s little more than a mere annoyance to Fassad, however, and he turns away to merely proceed with his own order of business. Hopefully his words have gotten through… but he may not want to risk the chance of this boy slipping through their fingers. That will be at the risk of the Colonel being displeased by his actions, but it is absolutely necessary if they wish to succeed in a timely manner. Enough so that the Magifolk will only consider the loss of trust as a minor setback in the end.


	3. PK Love...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Drowning ( AKA gaining the PK Love ability )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fanfic is associated with https://trampledsunflowersau.tumblr.com/

Lucas does_ not _ know where that man has gone. It’s almost like the Colonel’s just completely gone missing-- never to return. He hasn’t heard back from him, which has proven to cause a lot more distress than it probably should for a man that’s basically a _ stranger _ to him… But who else is he supposed to turn to in this kind of situation-?

Right now, he’s standing in this large... moving room-thing. It only moves vertically-- that much he can tell by the arrow keys on the elevator. That isn’t his main concern, though, since the_ real _ main concern is the person with unsettling red eyes standing beside him. Lucas stays huddled close to the opposite side of the elevator. 

Where’s the Colonel been? He almost seems like the only nice one around here… Maybe he should have tried asking to go home sooner. But he’s starting to doubt that it’d be allowed, now, based on the way other strangers here treat him. He missed his chance anyway-- and that’s Lucas’ own fault. It’s a chance that he’s never going to get back.

“Alright, keep it moving.” Fassad grabs Lucas by his arm and pushes him out of the elevator once the doors open. Lucas silently examines the room. It’s… empty, cold, and mostly dark aside from the gentle glow radiating from the water. They stop in front of the water, and the blond’s gaze immediately turns towards Fassad with anticipation but in the worst way.

“Can you swim?”

“Huh?” Lucas asks. His own voice is almost foreign to him-- it really has been a while since he’s been willing to speak with anybody. “Uh- yeah, I gue--” He’s shoved down along with his head suddenly forced beneath the water. There isn’t a chance to take a breath beforehand, so he chokes and sputters while drinking down large gulps which simultaneously burn his lungs.

A good quarter of it is spit back up as soon as he feels the other’s hand pull him out by his hair. The blond gasps and Fassad squats down beside him to examine him for a moment. His head shakes in disapproval. 

“No. That’s not enough.”

And so the process repeats until the younger is almost completely waterlogged-- nauseated by the amount he’s ended up swallowing by accident. His stomach aches and cramps to the point he’s become paralysed with the dread of possibly going right back under again if this stranger isn’t satisfied. If he does that-- then what if he swallows too much? His stomach might somehow rupture before he completely drowns if he’s held under for too long again. There’s a terrible ache in his eyes, nose and lungs and he collapses as soon as Fassad releases his hold on him. A quiet groan is torn from his throat as he curls up into a ball on the floor, his arms held protectively over his own stomach. 

His mind is foggy enough that there’s barely any thought given to why this is being done. Not that he even cares to search for the twisted reasoning behind it in the first place. All he knows is that it’s torture and he _ doesn’t _ want it-- he just wants to go back to his room. He wants Claus. He wants _ home _.

“PK Love…” The Magifolk muses. Lucas, though, is much too preoccupied to actually listen. Fassad takes that time abandon the blond’s side momentarily, then returns with a towel and a change of clothing tossed at his side. “Get yourself cleaned up, and don’t take your sweet time either- I’m getting you back up in your room before the Colonel returns.”

Honestly, though, that just gives him _ more _ reason to stay here… The Colonel could probably fix this. He could finally end it and just take him back home. But, if he does-- he might force him back under the water again. The concept terrifies him, especially with how sick and in pain he feels already. So, Lucas slowly forces himself up off the floor. As soon as he’s upright-- a wave of nausea overcomes him. A hand instinctively goes over his mouth until he doubles over, heaving water back up until the pain in his abdomen has finally settled. He coughs, moaning out quiet sobs as his shaking hands pull him across the floor to proceed with getting himself dry and in new clothes. It’s a painfully slow process. 

Eventually, though, he reaches Fassad who takes him right back to the elevator and right back to his room as promised. There isn’t any help, no sympathy-- only him silently dragging his miserable, aching self to lie in bed until everything can become dull enough to fall asleep.

His sleep is plagued with nightmares. It causes him to wake several times-- all of which take much too long for him to go back to sleep again. Each time awake almost feels worse than the last, and by the time he finally can’t urge himself to sleep any longer, he’s aching, sore, and consumed by a horribly ill feeling. He’s woken up late, which he can tell by the cold food left at his bedside. 

But… it’s nauseating just to look at even that plain meal. His eyes turn away as he rolls over to his side and lies quietly in bed-- just soaking in the utter silence of the room while it lasts. It’s only a few hours that evening begins to come, and he finally starts to drift in and out of consciousness again. Eventually, though, a pigmask comes in and forces him to eat. Though, more specifically, they just stand there and continue to urge him over and over until he can get himself to clean at least half the plate.

Another night spent alone passes. Then the next. The one after that…. Each day is ticking by slow enough to nearly drive Lucas crazy. Is his family even looking for him? Do they even care anymore? How long has it been- it can’t possibly be enough time to be forgotten about. But, he couldn’t save his brother from falling-- he’s sure that’s enough reason for his dad to decide he isn’t worth the trouble. Even if it’s his fault, he really hopes it isn’t the truth. He really hopes his dad can forgive him somehow.

He didn’t even take his only chance at freedom. He should’ve asked-- the Colonel must have abandoned him or forgotten about him, too…

Sleep doesn’t come easy this night, but it’s really getting harder and harder to sleep when he’s left alone with nothing but his thoughts trying to eat him and pick him apart piece by piece. No one is around but those cruel soldiers who are cold and demand and_ take _ . Lucas isn’t the type to cry for himself-- he never has been. His ‘crybaby’ label has only ever come out of crying or overreacting in response to _ other _ people’s pain. Right now, though? His vision begins to swim while he lies in bed and stares up at the white ceiling of the white room with the white pillow and the white bed. A slow sob finds its way escaping his throat. His body is wracked with a violent shiver as he coughs and wails. 

The plan is to just cry until he’s too exhausted to stay awake… and he is happy to succeed. However, after whatever extent of hours, he wakes to the unexpected feeling of cold suddenly coating his whole body before fading into the background. A dull pain radiates from the center of his skull and he simply turns over on his side to curl up and hide his face when opening his eyes proves much too difficult.

“Oh, thank the Dragon. Someone’s finally here.” A voice rings from inside his own mind. It sounds like a girl, though it’s unfamiliar that he’s certain he’s never even met her before at all. And so, the freckled blond is completely silent-- aside from the fact he’s barely even comprehending how someone is speaking to him in his head this way. It’s as if it’s his own thoughts, but they’ve instead been inserted into his head from somewhere else entirely-? “...Hello? Can you hear me?”

“Who’re you…?” Lucas asks, his voice managing to come out meek in spite of… well… the fact he’s not actually talking. It’s already just so weird...

“Huh? The name’s Kumatora. Who are _ you? _”

The name is familiar somehow-- maybe something that one of the villagers have spoken about at some point? But…. he’s drawing a complete blank on why that is. “...Lucas.” He replies, “What’s goin’ on? Where... am I right now?”

“I don’t know where you are, but you’re close enough for me to reach… Unless you mean_ how _ I’m talking to you-?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s what I mean…”

Kumatora sighs, moreso out of some kind of impatience rather than frustration with the boy’s lack of understanding. “Geez. I’ll try not to get too wordy with it, but we’re _ basically _ in your head right now. I’ve been trying to make contact with someone… and I guess you’re the only person I can reach with my telepathy. You know what _ telepathy _ is, right?”

“...I ain’t too familiar with it, no…”

It partially comes as a surprise to the girl, even if she really _ shouldn’t _ be surprised at all when thinking about the way this Lucas kid’s been acting the whole time. “It’s like talking, but just using your thoughts instead of your actual voice or anything. Sounds like you’re doing it just fine right now.”

There’s a silent hum of acknowledgement from Lucas, it seems, but Kumatora can’t exactly know for sure when she can’t even see him to begin with. A silence treads onward long after the sound, but the girl is just too impatient and worried he’ll slip from her grasp if she lets it go too far. “Do you got any idea of where you are right now? Outside your mind? Maybe I could help you.”

There’s a brief moment of hesitation, but his voice is found in the end. “I dunno where I’m at. So far I’ve got ta see it’s a strange grey place…. I’m in a room that goes to a long hallway… and there’s this room at the end of it that moves--”

“The tower.” Kumatora blurts out. It figures as much since she’s somewhere inside the tower, too… but there doesn’t really seem to be a good enough plan of escape right now. If there was then she probably wouldn’t have even resorted to this…

“Okay, if I could promise us a chance of getting out of here, would you help me?”

Silence, yet again. This time, the princess is much more patient however, especially when it's becoming more and more clear to her that this is probably the only real chance she has in the end. That both of them have in the end... they have no choice but to trust each other, right?

And for a second it she's almost tormented with the notion that maybe this kid isn't going to end up trusting her in the end after all, but--

“...Y-Yeah. What do I gotta do-?”


	4. What's for Breakfast?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Blood ( briefly mentioned -- AKA the opening nightmare Claus has )

Everything is black… for the most part. There’s a bizarre... hum? Of different colours and polygonal shapes twinkling gently in the background. Almost like a kaleidoscope or a lava lamp… if Claus even knew what either of those things were. Right now, he stands here, and it almost feels like he’s standing in absolute oblivion… but there’s still something there. It’s quiet aside from the gentle noise in the background, and it should probably be scary but it isn’t. This place is almost relaxing in a strange sort of way.

When he looks down, he can see his own reflection-- and it’s normal… for the most part. When he meets himself face-to-face, he comes to a sudden realisation that his eyes seem so… empty. It’s jarring enough to Claus that he steps back in an attempt to get away from this cruel reflection of his now following his exact movements. That’s kind of how a mirror works, but he so desperately doesn’t want to be intertwined with this thing that’s seemingly trapped inside the floor. The second step feels like a mistake then, though, cause his foot hits the ground heavy enough to make the reflection disappear from the colourful ripples sent throughout this weird void. But the colour from the ripple doesn’t seem to go away. It...

...Actually… was the floor always made of oil? Or is he only just now noticing this?

“Claus…?”

Right then and there, Claus is spinning around to greet the voice. It’s a bit choppy, wavering in and out-- but it’s startled him nonetheless. And, well, it doesn’t matter when he gets a good look at just who’s talking to him.

“...Lulu?” He’s nearly breathless when he replies, beginning to march forward through the substance trying to stick to his feet and hold him down with each step. Lucas just stares blank at Claus, almost like he’s looking right through him, but Claus’ chest aches with a sorrowful pain enough that it barely even registers in that moment. He reaches outward in a near panic as his twin suddenly collapses forward into him, then just quietly holds Lucas tight in his arms.

“Please don’t go runnin’ off again,” The blond murmurs quietly, trembling. “It ain’t so funny when you get yourself hurt.”

“No, no-- I ain’t goin’ nowhere, Luke.” Claus chokes out. “It’s gonna be awright, I’m-- I’m right here...” It’s kind of pathetic how quick he is to start falling apart as soon as he gets this very chance to see Lucas again. To see his _ brother _ again. And Claus didn’t even know if he was ever going to be seeing him anymore. It’s been weeks… maybe a month or so, even-? He honestly isn’t so sure with how easily all the days have been running into each other between his own recovery and the cold, deathly wave of grief running rampant like an awful plague through Tazmily. Hopefully dad isn’t going to leave him, too…

Next thing he knows, though, is getting pulled right back into this moment of complete, shared silence between him and his younger twin. There’s a warmth that blooms like spilt liquid soaking into the wool of his shirt that nearly startles him… but instead very deeply unsettles him. A chill crawls up his back as he looks down and finds Lucas is still right there in his arms, but there’s something that just _ isn’t right _ anymore. The scent of iron fills the air.

“...Lucas…?”

Silence. His blood runs cold.

“Hey-- Lulu? Talk to me.” Claus tries again, using a hand to gently guide Lucas to meet his gaze.

Once again, the boy is staring right through him. His eyes are… still there, but something about them is just so _ empty _. For a brief moment, a horrible thought runs through his mind- and he really, really doesn’t want to believe it...

Is… Is this even_ Lucas? _

If it isn’t, then, who is he holding right now? _ What _ is he holding-? While trying to piece it all together, Claus’ gaze drifts down towards the source of the aforementioned warmth, and suddenly this moment is becoming all too loud. He can hear it now, the heavy pulse of Lucas’ heart still trying to beat strong and fight whatever’s happening to him. There’s a screeching, almost mechanical-like noise that grates against his ears as his eyes go wide and he finds himself completely unable to look away from the blood ever so slowly dripping from Lucas’ shirt like syrup.

“Lucas-?” Claus starts, his voice loud and beginning to shake. He’s about to make another move before the ringing gets so loud, and the room suddenly fills with such blinding light-- he can’t help but stumble back to hold his hands over his ears. When Claus feels the warmth disappear, and feels Lucas’ weight disappear along with it, his eyes forcibly snap open again in a desperate search for him.

And suddenly, everything is quiet. There’s no sign of blood, no sign of Lucas, and now he’s standing in a field of sunflowers all gathered beneath an orange sky as if nothing’s ever even happened. The ginger can’t help but just stand and stare in a stunned silence as he struggles to process everything that’s just happened within the span of a few intense moments. Slowly, he begins to walk. A cool, oncoming night breeze flows in waves through the field as he makes spins to try to figure out just where he is right now… but nothing’s coming to him no matter how far he seems to wander. Finally, Claus comes to stop. Soon as he does, however, a hand grasps at his arm. He spins around to meet the source of the hand and finds… his mother. And she’s just… standing right there, smiling warmly to him.

“Claus.”

Lucas’ eyes snap open, tears running down the sides of his face.

***

From just outside the window, through the ocean fog comes the surprisingly cheery twitter of a bird’s song. It’s been around a month or so since very terrible things have befallen Tazmily village, and though what’s left of the Barnes’ family has clearly been taking it the hardest… there’s still this odd calm that’s washed right over them all as a whole. The chances are it’s a very hushed, grieving silence… and yet everyone is acting content in attempts to push through it in their odd and almost _ weird _ ways. But that’s not to say it’s entirely their fault when everyone is so lost on things that they don’t understand, nor have any semblance of control over.

That said though, Fuel at least finds it almost shocking how well Claus seems to have completely recovered from the whole ordeal. Enough that, as if right on cue, the brunet’s nearly jumping several feet back at the sight of a hand smearing away the morning frost from the window. A closer look tells him that it’s only his friend, ( AKA his ‘_ partner in crime’ _, really ) with the biggest give away being how he squishes his face up against the window to look inside. Even that doesn’t last long, since his breath very quickly starts to fog up the glass right after. Hastily, he’s waving as Fuel slowly approaches to see if he can hear him, but Claus just gives several wild gestures over trying to speak. It’s punctuated with him finally showing two thumbs-up and running away from the window.

He has no clue how to piece any of what just happened together, but by the way he can see the shorter boy’s figure moving past each window to reach the front door… well, the obvious assumption is that he’s waiting for him. And so Fuel is quick to hop ( quietly as possible ) out of bed and get ready before he’s making a beeline straight for the door. A burst of cold air greets him as soon as he steps out, which makes him very grateful he decided to grab his jacket… along with an extra one for Claus who isn’t wearing one and is also shivering as a result.

“Hey.” Claus starts, to which Fuel already is swinging the jacket around him in response before patting his shoulders.

“Hey, don’t ya know it’s freezin’ out here?”

“Well, _ yeah _ , but in my defense, dad’s makin’ breakfast and I don’t want it turnin’ out all burnt again so ya gotta help us out. It’s yer neighbourly _ duty _ t’ do it.”

At that, Fuel can’t help but roll his eyes-- even if he’s already walking at that very moment to get a move on as quick as possible. “Y’all gotta start learnin’ to cook _ sometime _. Whaddya gonna do if I’m sleeping in or too busy for the day?”

“Wait, what about Lighter?” Claus asks. Fuel honestly can’t tell if he was ignoring the question on purpose or if he genuinely got distracted by his own thoughts.

“You think dad’s gonna be comin’ out just t’ cook for y'all at _ this _ hour? Come on, Claus, get a move on before you start gettin’ sniffles out here!” He ends the statement by grabbing Claus’ arm and speeding him along the rest of the way to that little Barnes home up on the hill. He really isn’t _ trying _ to be overly-worried about Claus’ health, but he honestly can’t help it at this point. The topic of everything that happened has been seemingly completely avoided by Claus that he honestly can’t help but try to somehow show and prove that he _ really _ is there for what little is left of their family-- even when he can’t exactly say it outright.

Next thing he knows, he’s meeting face to face with Flint standing in the kitchen and trying to remember what ingredients he put where for breakfast. Claus is already sitting at the table kicking his legs around 

“Oh, Fuel….” Flint starts, tipping his hat a bit, “I said Claus didn’t need t’ be goin’ the extra mile for yer help… We didn’t wake you or nothing, right-?”

“Naw, it ain’t nothin’ like that, Mr. Flint. Lookin’ for somethin’?”

“Err-- yeah.” He replies while lifting his hat ever so slightly to run a hand over his hair underneath, “Thought I had a block a cheese ‘round here just a moment ago…”

To that, Fuel hums thoughtfully and begins moving around slowly to help with the search. It isn’t long, though, before he spots the block… right there on the counter an arm’s length away from Flint. _ Oh boy _…

“Mr. Flint… when’s the last time you’ve had a full night’s sleep?”

At that, Flint almost seems to noticeably flinch at his words. He’s gotten so much more jumpy since… well…

“I, uh,” He looks to Claus, who seems absolutely clueless and careless to it all, as if he has just as little understanding to not just Flint’s nervous demeanor, but to this entire situation as a whole. “Well, I--”

“I think you should be takin’ a rest, I don’t mind takin’ over this time.”

“No, that ain’t fair to ya… Yer our guest, I can’t just--”

“It’s more than awright, sir. I’d rather be handlin’ this instead a’ lettin’ ya burn the food. Worse case scenario’s that yer just gonna get _ yerself _ burnt anyway.”

For a moment, Flint still seems to hesitate on his decision. That’s of course until Fuel starts physically carrolling him out of the kitchen and into the rocking chair that sits by the fireplace. As soon as he’s there, Fuel looks over to the bed that Boney sleeps on and calls for him to come lie down on Flint’s lap.

“There, by the demands of the dog himself, y’ain’t gonna be movin’ till he says you can.” Fuel announces triumphantly before he’s marching right back into the kitchen again.

“...This is real sweet of ya, Fuel,” Flint says while leaning forward in his seat.

“Aw, shucks, it ain’t nothin’ Mr. Flint. I just don’t want you burnin’ the house down.”

“It’d be a little funny, though.” Claus interjects with a smile.

And, well, it honestly _ wouldn’t _\-- but Fuel would rather not drag down the already fragile sense of lightheartedness he’s trying to keep up right now. Instead, he just rolls his eyes and starts getting to work on their breakfast. Half the time Fuel waits for the omelette to cook, he notices Claus staring at Flint’s sleeping form quite a bit. And he’s about to address it until Claus starts scooting around in his chair while looking straight to Fuel again. “You know, I had this weird dream last night.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yup.” Claus replies.

He goes quiet immediately after that, enough that nothing but the pop and sizzle of the stove echoes in the room. Fuel stares blank at the omelette for a moment before he looks back up again.

“...And?”

“And what?”

“And… aren’t ya gonna tell me about it?”

“Huh? No. Jus’ makin’ conversation.” Claus shrugs, then starts swinging his legs around again.

...Alright. Fuel’s probably just overreacting, but he can’t help the twinge of concern about that anyway. But… might as well just shake it off for now and try to take care of things. Well, except...

“How’re yer battle scars comin’ along?”

Immediately the question feels like a mistake, cause Claus seems to nearly bristle at the question. His gentle, dumb little smile is immediately replaced with a slightly bitter look.

“Fuel.”

“I know ya don’t like talkin’ bout it, but I’m just tryna make sure yer alright.”

The ginger is silent for a moment after that, thinking it over with his expression softening gradually before he’s seemingly okay enough to speak again.

“Doin’ jus’ fine if I could come see ya, clearly.”

“That’s always good t’ hear.” Especially with the odds against him when _ it _had first happened. “Anyway, breakfast is ready.” Fuel says as he starts plating the food, then heads to the dining area to set each plate out for the three of them. Well… three, if he’s not counting the food bowl he’s placed on the table for Boney.

“Boney! Here, boy!” Fuel calls while patting one of the seats. The canine perks up, dropping from Flint’s lap to trot over and sit at the table. There’s a quiet groan from the man who then stirs from his sleep as a result of the movement, and he begins fixing his hat before he stands and stretches. It ends up with all of them sitting at the table with their own seats: Flint with Claus and Boney with Fuel.

Flint can’t exactly help but laugh a bit at the sight. “Settin’ his food bowl at the table again? Yer always so keen on spoilin’ that dog.”

“He needs to know he’s part of the family!” Fuel whines and gives Boney a good scratch behind his ear. He cuts a piece of his own omelette and carefully places it in with the rest of the dog’s food. Flint laughs some more.

“Shhh, take him seriously, dad!” Claus hisses out. “Look at him, he’s waitin’ just for us.”

“I’m sorry, I ain’t tryin’ to.” Flint grins, finally moving to take his first bite. Everyone else at the table follows right after. “Guess I underestimate how good his manners are.”

“Think if I tried hard enough that I could teach him t’ cook just as good as me,” Fuel says.

“You can’t do that, what’s he gonna get out of it when you start givin’ him so much work t’ do?”

“_ Good food. _” Fuel retorts, “It’ll be worth it instead a’ whatever you’ve been burnin’ to a crisp.”

“Heyyy, it ain’t like our food’s _ poison _ or nothin’.” Claus says with a huff.

And the rest of their time eating together ends up in an alternating cycle of jovial chatter and meaningless banter between one another. Overall, Fuel would describe it as a very successful visit. He knows in his head that this likely isn’t a true point of happiness with all that’s happened, but he’s very pleased to know he can bring these two _ some _kind of joy in the midst of this strange awful mess. Support is all he can really give them while they recover from this. And he’s pretty sure they’re in a desperate need of it… even if Claus insists otherwise.

Slowly, Fuel begins to gather up their plates.

“Hey,” Flint says, taking the plates from Fuel’s hands. “You’ve already done a lot. The least I could do is clean this all up…” A pause. “Ah, Claus, it’s startin’ to warm up outside by now-- can ya go take Boney for a walk?”

At that, Claus nods. He whistles for Boney and starts trotting along with him to leave the house.

“Try not t’ run off, actually! I wanna go with you after this!” Fuel calls. Claus flashes a smile and a thumbs up before the door shuts behind him.

For a moment, Flint seems confused by that. “Hey, it’s alright, Fuel. I can handle cleanin’ this all up.”

“That ain’t it.”

The suddenly serious tone in Fuel’s voice silences the man pretty quickly, though they’re still walking together to the sink in spite of the tension.

“...What is it, then?” Flint asks.

“Well, it’s just… I haven’t been able t’ tell a thing Claus is thinkin’ or feelin’ since what happened. Is he awright-?”

Slowly, Flint’s fingers begin to tap on the counter as he carefully considers his answer. “...I… well, Claus ain’t been actin’ too honest with me either. I can pretty much guess that he really ain’t over any of this… I… I’m definitely not. Don’t think I ever will be…” Flint sighs, reaching up to wipe his eyes as he hunches over the counter. Another sigh until he starts again. “Fuel… I think it’s real lucky he’s got you around for him. It’ll get better, I think… I… No matter if ya think he ain’t okay, though, I think this is all you can do fer him right now, awright?”

A slow nod, “...Awright. Real sorry if I upset you with this, Mr. Flint…”

“No-- no, it’s just fine. Yer just worried, I can’t blame ya.” He says, giving the boy a firm pat on his back. “Go on and catch up with Claus now, would ya? I’m sure he’d like the company.”

“Course, I’ll be outta yer hair,” Fuel smiles. “I think ya need some rest too, though. Yer lookin’ dead dog tired.”

To that, Flint lets out a quiet laugh. “Awright, awright. Come on, Fuel, yer too young t’ be fussin’ over this old dog. Get a move on outta here.”

Fuel nods, offering a final wave and goodbye as he goes jogging out the door to catch up with Claus. Quietly, Flint returns to the task at hand with a sigh and a shake of his head. He really has just lost his touch, hasn't he?


	5. Escape Route

For some strange reason that Lucas doesn’t understand… those few pigmasks that would check on him have stopped coming into his room a while ago. He can’t exactly tell if it’s an improvement or not, since seeing a strange metal girl introducing herself definitely was a shock to him the first time. But even when she’s this weird… almost _ living _ doll-like type of thing, Lucas can’t deny that she’s the nicest company he’s had around since he first ended up in this awful place.

...Which is exactly why Kumatora wants to take advantage of her, and exactly why Lucas _ doesn’t _.

It’s early in the morning-- far earlier than he would normally wake, but he’s completely lost all sense of time from the way this place warps it. He can never tell the sunrise from sunset through that single, thin little window high up on the wall. At the very least, he knows when it’s late morning by the way the light obnoxiously comes in through the window to shine on his face. But none of this hardly matters.

“Kumatora… I don’t want t’ do this.” Lucas announces. His telepathic voice has long since grown strong and confident since first learning the ability.

“Huh? What do you mean? I thought we had this all planned out!”

“I know, I just… I got a real bad feeling ‘bout all this, is all-- like somethin’ bad’s gonna happen. I don’t think we’re gonna make it.”

At that, Kumatora is silent. Lucas doesn’t press for any immediate response, however, and just patiently waits. His fingers tap quietly over his own stomach as he stares up at the ceiling.

“...You still there?” She finally asks. Lucas can’t help the slight smile on his face.

“I mean… where else could I even be?”

“I don’t know, asleep? Look--” Kumatora starts, “I get the feeling, but… it’s better to say we at least tried, right?”

“...I don’t know if that’s the best thing t’ be sayin’ in this place. I… I dunno what they’re gonna do if they get mad at me… or _ you _. Do… Do you think they’ll figure out we’ve been talkin’ this whole time?”

“ ... ”

“Kumatora?”

“I really don’t know, Lucas. I don’t think anything’s a guarantee… I just don’t want those bastards thinking I’ll go down without a fight.”

To that, the boy lets out a quiet sigh, then rolls over onto his side. “...I guess so… If this don’t work, though...”

“Then we’ll think about that_ later. _” Kumatora says, “Just focus on right now, alright?”

“...Awright.” Lucas replies. And that’s the last thing they say to one another until Lucas’ eyes drift closed and he’s completely asleep again.

It’s about a few hours later when he wakes up at sunrise. There’s a moment of shifting around in bed before he opens his eyes to find Miss Marshmallow with her head tilted sideways to try directly meeting his gaze. “Good morning, Lemon Drop.” She says with a smile, standing upright and holding out a ready-made breakfast on a tray for Lucas to take.

“Miss Marshmallow…” He says right back, then looks down at the breakfast. It’s in the shape of a smile, and that almost makes Lucas not want to ruin it. But he obviously has no choice if there’s a chance this’ll be the last time he’ll have something to eat for a while. So while the robot maid begins to tidy up his room, he begins to slowly pick away at his meal.

Their time together is silent this morning. Marshmallow doesn’t really seem to notice the difference though… which is another reason Kumatora’s been so keen on using her to escape. She just doesn’t seem to have any real critical thought beyond very certain things… which, if he’s being honest, is both scary and sort of _ sad _ in a weird way. Today’s the day he’s gonna really test if it’s all just some kind of act or not, though.

“Are you done?” She asks finally. Lucas nearly jumps to find her standing right at his side, just waiting there to take his plate for him.

“Oh, um… yeah…” He murmurs, then hands the tray to her. But when the maid tries taking the tray, she finds his grip is still firm on it. Her head tilts curiously, emitting a soft whirring sound as she does so.

“Lemon Drop?”

“Do you wanna play a game?” Lucas asks, a very slight tremor in his voice that goes completely unnoticed by Miss Marshmallow. Instead, her face lights up with excitement and she’s quick to let the plate go.

“I like games! What kind of game should we play today?”

“It’s uh… new one.” He hops out of bed, then holds out his hand for her to take. Cold metal fingers clasp around his own hand, causing him to nearly cringe before he’s moving to lead her to the far corner of the room. “It’s a countin’ game… a patience game. You stand right here, and ya can’t move a muscle. Ya gotta count down from five thousand slowly. Then when yer done, I’m gonna be somewhere in this room, and ya gotta tag me so I can stand here and count next. Does that make sense?”

“Oh, that’s easy! I’m going to count the best.” Miss Marshmallow announces triumphantly, eagerly moving to stand and face the corner. “5000… 4999… 4998… “

The moment she starts counting, Lucas’ gaze falls right to the keycard clipped to her side. He very cautiously reaches towards her unmoving body and unclips the keycard-- very slowly backing away to find that… she doesn’t at all seem to have a care in the world about him. She really _ is _ focused on the game…

He watches her count for a bit before he has to force himself to shake it off and head over to use the key on the door instead. It works, and Lucas glances over his shoulder to find Miss Marshmallow still counting before he decides it’s safe enough to slowly walk out into the hall. Geez… he really doesn’t want to have to do this, but… As soon as Lucas decides he’s in the clear, he spins around to lock her in-- then makes a beeline straight for the elevator.

“Kumatora?”

  
“Huh? Did something happen?”

  
“No, I got Miss Marshmallow distracted and I’m at the elevator now. What floor are you on?”

“Oh, sweet!” Kumatora cheers, “Okay, I’m on the thirteenth floor and there’s no one around from what I can see. As soon as you get me we’re gonna need to haul ass out of here as quick as possible, alright?”

“Alright.” Lucas echoes, scanning over the large board of different buttons before finding and quickly hitting the correct one. The elevator starts moving down and Lucas quietly lets out a relieved sigh. What are they going to do once they get out…? He doesn’t know how far away they are from home, so the trust he’ll have to put in this girl he’s gonna finally meet face-to-face for the first time…

There’s a loud grating noise that throws Lucas from his thoughts at that moment. He stumbles forward as the elevator stutters to a halt… then starts moving_ up _ instead. The radio in the elevator kicks in with strange carnival-like music. His heart sinks, and Lucas begins to look around with panicked eyes.

“Kumatora…”

“What is it?”

“...We ain’t gonna make it outta here.” He says. From then onward, he ignores Kumatora’s own panic and demands for explanations as the doors open up to a large hallway devoid of any people. The only thing around at the very center of the floor seems to be large piano keys-- _ way _ larger than any other piano he’s ever seen. Even if there’s no one in sight… There’s a horrible feeling settled at the very pit of his stomach. Immediately, Lucas begins pressing the button back to his own floor. When it doesn’t work, he frantically tries several other buttons which are once again to no avail. The elevator music has since faded to complete silence that grates at his ears the exact same way. What is this? What is this?

He knew this would turn out badly… or no, he didn’t know. He was just stupid enough to hope he could make it out of here, and now... and now… Lucas reluctantly steps out from the safe bubble of the elevator to begin wandering into the hallway. There… There has to be _ some _ other way out, right? But he’s pulled from his thoughts as the sound of the elevator doors shutting startle him enough that he spins around and leaps back onto the very first key of the piano. A single note echoes in the empty hall, and Lucas leaps from it to the safe, stable ground instead.

Nothing happens. Lucas decides to walk around the piano from then onward.

As soon as he reaches the middle of the hallway and notices a door ahead, however, a loud static noise startles him into covering his ears.

“Gooood evening, everyone!” A shrill voice announces over the speakers in the room, “I am your hostess, hand picked by the one and only Master Porky! And today, I bring you our most prized, _ extreme _ musical game of life or death: Piano Keys! First, allow me to explain the rules.”

Slowly, Lucas looks up for the source of the noise, then finds himself staring at a projection of the game on the wall directly across from him.

“It’s a _ very _ simple game: you will look at the pattern displayed to you on the wall, and if you get the rhythm correct-- then you pass! Are you ready? If you mess up, well… who could possibly be dumb enough to do _ that? _”

..._ What? _

He looks at the projection for a bit longer, then covers his ears with a wince as the blaring noise of the notes begin to play. Instead of focusing on the game-- Lucas begins rushing his way around the piano keys as a whole to avoid it.

“Ohhh, what’s this? We got ourselves a chicken that’s _too_ _scared_ to take on this challenge! I guess that can only be expected when the King’s _awesome_ presence is enough to make any weak kid wet his pants! But you aren’t getting away that easily. You’ve sealed your fate just by giving up before you even tried!”

When he’s getting addressed directly, all it does is send him in a sudden spiral of panic until he’s sprinting down the hall and attempting to leap over one of the giant keys. At the last moment, Lucas trips and triggers the note to play-- but the door’s right in front of him… and… suddenly moving away from him? A quick glance around the room tells him that somehow, someway; the floor is _ moving _. The keys have been completely replaced by a massive conveyor belt. Gears click and churn at the opposite end of the hall to form a giant lizard’s mouth chomping at the ground.

A hysterical squeal tears out of the blond’s throat and he stumbles over himself wildly to get back up on his feet and sprint for the exit a second time. It’s a horrible race against both the floor and the looming creature behind him that threatens to swallow him whole. The fire, that drago, his _ mother _\-- Lucas outstretches his hand and grabs at the door handle before he yanks himself through it and comes tumbling in onto solid ground. With a quiet sob, he sits up and hides his face in his hands. Laughter booms through the speakers, but this time it’s a much different voice.

“Ahahaha--” Porky coughs out, then wheezes. Lucas can hear the sound of his hand hitting something solid. “You should’ve seen the look on your stupid face! You were really thinking I couldn’t see you, right? I bet you seriously woke up today and thought, ‘oh man, I’m the smartest twelve year old alive! Porky can’t _ possibly _ be smarter than me!’ and- and now here you are--” Another pause for him to cough. “-- here you are, practically gonna wet yourself like a stupid little baby!”

Lucas sniffles, shakily wiping his eyes and looking up towards the source of the voice with a scowl. No… no, he can’t. Just this _ once _, he can’t give himself over to the pain and humiliation if it’s just going to make this… horrible person so happy. Slowly, Lucas stands and makes the rest of his way down the hall to the next set of doors which open up into the elevator. The inside of it looks exactly the same as before…

“Ohh, you’re gonna be like _ that _, huh? And here I was thinking you didn’t have any fight left in you. Fine. I have all kinds of games waiting for you!”

He tries the button to go back to his own floor again-- Luckily this time, the elevator seems to work. Lucas sits hard on the ground.

“...Hey, don’t ignore me, idiot. You think you’re gonna just get back into your room nice and easy after pulling that stunt? I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson!”

Still no response. Instead, he just fiddles around with the keycard.

“You know what? I really hope they give you an attitude adjustment after _ he’s _ finished with you. You’re _ suuuch _ a sore loser!”

That’s luckily the last thing that Porky has to say to him. The elevator eventually stops and Lucas is thankful that he hasn’t changed up the floors again. The young psychic struggles to get himself to stand, but when he does, he drags himself back towards his room and steps inside. Miss Marshmallow is still right where he left her…

...He still does feel bad for that. A hand moves to reattach the keycard to her dress-- then Lucas sits on the bed again, watching her count.

“...Miss Marshmallow?”

She stops counting, then turns to face him. “Yes, Lemon Drop?”

“...I’m sorry. I don’t like that game after all… Can we play one a’ yer games instead?”

“I’d be happy to!” Miss Marshmallow smiles. “We can play a sentence game-- I’ll say a word, then you say one after. We go back and forth like that, and the goal is to try to make a sentence with it.”

“...Sounds fun.” Lucas says quietly with an attempted smile in return.

The mindless chatter and different games between them goes back and forth for a while until lunch time. By then, however, he ends up falling asleep from the exhaustion of everything that’d just happened only hours prior to this very moment. At the very least... This sleep is a deep and peaceful one.


	6. Nice Person Hot Spring

“Hey.” A voice comes in through the darkness. Lucas stirs a bit, but just hides his face in his pillow… before he’s swiftly pulled right up into a sitting position. “Hey- don’t think you’re allowed to get away with acting like that around me. Up. _ Now. _” Fassad snarls out.

The boy lets out a quiet groan as he attempts to gather himself. Slowly, he stumbles out of bed-- then trips and runs right into Fassad. There’s a moment of shock that suddenly overwhelms him the moment he makes physical contact with the Magifolk, but when Lucas jumps away from him-- Fassad catches him by the wrist and tugs him close again. Through very low light peeking in from the single window, Lucas can see the outline of Fassad’s eerie features. Most of all, his eyes are blood red and sharp, and his gaze pierces right into Lucas enough that he_ has _ to look away. There’s something _ wrong _ with him, something very, very wrong--

A hand clasps around Lucas’ jaw to jerk his head straight forward again so they can look at each other directly. Lucas screws his eyes shut and squirms around to keep fighting against it.

“...I know that look.” Fassad growls, his voice low. “Only a _ special _ kind of human would show that level of aversion to me. I sure hope it hurts.”

Lucas stays completely silent, save for his panicked breathing he struggles to keep calm. Everything-- the intensity of all the_ incomprehensible _emotion that radiates out of this… this… He can’t… tell what he’s supposed to be... 

“Look at me, boy.” Fassad hisses out. It scares Lucas enough that his eyes immediately snap open and he finds himself face to face with something so, so very wrong and sickening... churning and writhing far beneath the surface of the Magifolk’s eyes. He lets out a quiet grunt, then shuts his eyes again.

This time, though, Fassad just laughs. “Ahh, this is going to be way too _ easy. _ You’re going to be our best experiment yet.”

...Experiment? Porky-- he was saying something strange before, too. Even if Lucas isn’t entirely sure what that entails, he can already guess it isn’t good by the way his hair stands on his neck-- heart suddenly pounding in his chest as he breaks into a cold sweat. Before Lucas can open his mouth in seek of any clarification, the Magifolk yanks him out of the room and he stumbles after him.

“Stay right ahead of me.” Fassad demands, shoving Lucas forward. “If you try anything, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Nothing is said in return, and he makes sure to listen close to Fassad’s words… What other choice does he have?

The two head into the elevator, and there’s a tense silence from Lucas while Fassad merely stands and stares straight ahead with a confident posture-- only occasionally looking in Lucas’ direction. For a moment, Lucas thinks about contacting Kumatora, but… there’s no way anything good will come out of it. Not with the Magifolk’s eyes on him like this. What would even be the use of it anyway…? It’s pretty much hopeless, now, isn’t it? He’s probably going to die and that’s that.

Only a moment ago, they’d been in the elevator. The very next moment, they’re walking through the long, cold halls of a place that Lucas has never seen before: The Chimera Laboratory. It’s completely empty, and all the lights are out just like the hallway back in the tower. Another elevator. Another floor. Fassad still looms over him as they walk. It’s probably a miracle he hasn’t lost his mind yet.

And then, a strange passage way opens up to a room with fluorescent lights. Lucas stumbles to a halt for a moment to gather himself and allow his eyes to adjust, but Fassad shoves him once again before he gets the chance. “Did I say we could stop? _ Keep going _.”

“Oh-- Fassad…” A voice greets. Lucas rubs his eyes a moment longer before he looks up to find a very small, strange looking old man. The next thing his eyes fall to is the large glass capsule off to the side. What is that…?

“Dr. Andonuts.” Fassad smiles. “Did you get everything prepared like I asked?”

“Oh, uh, yes-- I did!” Andonuts replies and walks over to the capsule. The glass seems to lower after he messes with some kind of keyboard on a stand nearby. “Over here… young man.” He utters out in an awkward fashion. Lucas cautiously follows suit ( of course with Fassad close behind ) regardless.

“Alright… good. Now step inside?”

“...What’s it do?” He asks, though he honestly doesn’t expect any real answer with how things are heading.

“It, uhh--”

“Just get in the damn thing. We don’t have all day here.” Fassad growls as he shoves Lucas onto the circular floor of the capsule. The blond nearly trips on the way in, but catches his balance just in time for the glass to slide by up and be sealed completely around him. His heart sinks at the sight of it.

The doctor picks away at his own hands in a nervous fashion. “Alright… this, uh… it’s gonna be uncomfortable-- _ but, _ you’ll feel better after this. Promise.”

With a flip of a switch and a strange noise from inside the capsule, Lucas nearly jumps back at the sensation of a strange green liquid beginning to fill it from the bottom. At first, he’s hugging the side of the glass-- but as soon as he comes to realise that it’s filling up no matter how he tries to position himself… he ends up walking forward again to stand in the center.

“I know it looks scary, but it’s perfectly safe! No one’s ever had any adverse reactions.” Andonuts reassures, “Now-- it’s going to fill up to the top, so I’d like to let you know that you can breathe this in just fine.”

“Update me on when he’s ready.” Fassad announces before he’s marching out of the room. Lucas watches almost longingly at the way the doors open and shut with a sense of finality. He’s never going to get out, is he? And now he’s going to be this… ‘_ experiment’ _. He should have never believed for a second that there was even some kind of chance to get away from here. It’s hopeless…

For once, he really hopes his family doesn’t want to see him ever again. They’d at least be able to get _ something _ they want out of this mess…

Before he knows it, Dr. Andonuts is rambling on about how hard Fassad makes his job for him while Lucas is standing silently with the liquid already having climbed halfway up his body within minutes. He doesn’t know what will happen when it reaches his head. He’s felt what it’s like to drown-- and he desperately doesn’t want to feel it again. Once it reaches his chin and he’s on his toes to stay above the surface, he’s casting a worried look over to Andonuts. _ Somehow _ it gets the doctor to stop ranting.

“You’ll be fine.” He reassures. Something Lucas doesn’t believe a second of since he’s been here. “Just remember: you can still breathe. You’re not drowning.”

Oh… _ good _ \-- so it _ does _ feel like drowning, doesn’t it? Even if he can breathe, it’s probably going to hurt like he’s drowning, too… “W-What if I swallow it?”

“_ Don’t _ swallow it.” Andonuts instructs, “You’ll be fine, just remind yourself that you can breathe. You’ll panic for a brief amount of time but I promise it’s just false alarms going off in your head. Nothing to worry about.”

Okay, so… a lot to worry about. If he can’t calm down then maybe he _ is _going to swallow it. Andonuts didn’t exactly give any sort of warning on what that could do to him if he does it by accident. Doesn’t seem like it’s going to really stop whatever’s about to happen anyway though, so maybe it is best if he just tries to stop thinking about it… He can’t, though. Even as he rises with the liquid-- even as his eyes widen in panic once his head is bumping up against the ceiling of the glass container. Some of it flows into his mouth and he tries to spit it out quickly as he can in his panic.

“Breathe!” Andonuts says. Lucas glances over to see him giving a thumbs up through the green wavy filter of the fluid. At this very moment, though… he really, really hates to see that kind of gesture.

Regardless, the blond is reminded he has no choice in the matter once again as his mouth begins to grow fully submerged. It really _ does _ feel like drowning-- and so he can’t help the way his body jerks and thrashes around as his hands claw at the glass while his eyes search for some way to get free. Predictably, though, it’s completely useless in the end. His memory is foggy towards the transition from his fear sinking into a strange calm after the liquid has entirely filled every area of the tank… but it’s happened. In a way, he isn’t exactly sure if he’s truly calm or simply exhausted from fighting it but… he can breathe, for what it’s worth. He’s now suspended perfectly within the center of the capsule, his eyes half lidded as though he’s faded into a state between wakefulness and sleep. He no longer notices his surroundings in the room beyond the container he’s in.

After long enough, Lucas’ eyes fully close.

His eyes open. He’s no longer in the capsule. Instead there’s that same field of sunflowers he’s once dreamt of before all in its place. The sky is blue…

“Over here!” A woman calls. Lucas blinks and slowly looks around in confusion. “Lucas… Over here!”

His head turns in the direction of the voice, hesitantly but surely beginning to walk towards it. It… Is that mom…?

“Lucas!” She shouts in a cheery voice. Soon enough, Lucas can start to see her in the distance-- so he starts to pick up the pace.

“Mom-?” His voice trembles. “Mom… Mama!” Lucas cries out as he breaks into a sprint in her direction. The time it takes to reach her feels too slow-- but any time would feel far too slow apart from her at this rate. Tears streak his face as he runs for what feels like five minutes… ten minutes… fifteen…. 

So when she’s finally close enough for him to reach, he doesn’t know how to get himself to stop. All he can think to do is a running leap-- his arms outstretched in desperation to reach her.

“My sweet honey bear…” Hinawa smiles.

And then, she’s suddenly drifting up and away from him. There’s no longer a field beneath him for him to land safely in, and therefore he plummets-- and _ keeps _ plummeting. The blue sky fades to orange, then pink, then black. Lucas finds himself finally landing hard into what feels like a tar-like sort of… oily substance. He looks around to find absolutely nothing there, then looks to his own blackened hands to try to figure out what he’s sitting in. The second time Lucas looks up, however-- he freezes. Fassad is standing in front of him, watching him close with those piercing red eyes of his. But… beside him is Claus, then Flint. On the other side sits Lighter, and… before he knows it, he’s spinning all the way around to find all the villagers from Tazmily watching him in a circle. They say nothing, but their eyes are red to match Fassad’s… unlike Fassad, however, they’re empty and sunken in. His gaze snaps back over to Claus and Flint.

Frantically, he begins crawling through the thick black substance to reach them. What is he going to do when he reaches them, though? Is he going to apologise? He should apologise… he ought to apologise. Except that trying to crawl only gets worse over time-- like he’s sinking in quicksand the more he tries to move. But… still, it still doesn’t stop him. He has to reach them _ somehow _, and there’s no other way around this. Over time, they get closer and closer. Lucas stands at some point but trips back into the sludge again when he’s barely there. He tries standing again but his legs are far too deep by now. When the blond finds he’s sinking much faster than he can crawl, though, he starts to nearly panic.

His green eyes flick up towards Claus and Flint who stand over him… just… staring silently down at him. When he attempts to cry for help, his mouth is filled with the black substance and he chokes. With the last of his strength he tears a hand out from the pit and grabs Claus’ ankle for some sort of support. Some sort of cry for help. But all he gets in return is the ginger’s empty gaze watching as he sinks further and further down. Lucas’ hold begins to slip away as if something beneath is forcing him to release his grip. It smears black over Claus’ shoe, but he’s submerged to the point he can no longer see what’s happening. All he can remember is the cold, unfeeling look in his twin’s eyes just watching him drown.

There’s a gasp as he comes to. Lucas gags and sputters while the capsule empties around him and he drops to his hands and knees to cough up the fluids still stuck in his lungs. Andonuts didn’t warn him about that… But he honestly is barely coherent enough to think of Andonuts right now. Shakily, Lucas lifts his head to find Fassad and the doctor standing right in front of him.

“Get up, Soldier.” Fassad demands.

He carefully stands on wobbling legs, teeth chattering with his arms slowly crossing over his chest.

“Let’s see… Do you know your name?”

No answer.

“...Hm.” The Magifolk glances over to Andonuts briefly, then back to Lucas. “Who do you serve?”

A pause. What… What is he even talking about? Is he _ supposed _ to know the answer to this or something-? After long enough, though, he can tell by the panicked look on Andonut’s face along with the building anger on the Magifolk’s… silence definitely isn’t the right answer here.

“You said it’d work!” Fassad shouts. It’s loud enough to earn a quiet groan out of Lucas before he’s covering his ears.

“I-I-It’s supposed to…! I--” Andonuts frantically moves to check the calculations on the machine. “The mixture is correct! Six hours in this is all he needs to--”

“Well _ clearly _ it didn’t do anything!”

“What am I supposed to do?? I can’t just--”

“_ You’re _ the scientist here,” Fassad growls, “ _ Fix it _ for Dragon’s sake! Maybe he needs to be set in for longer, or _ maybe _ you should start making the mixture more potent if someone as weak as this kid is suddenly developing a resistance to it!”

“O-Okay, I, um… I-I’ll see what I can do, Fassad.”

“That’s right.” He snaps. “We can’t afford to waste shit on a project like this, you hear me?”

“L-Loud and clear, Fassad!” Andonuts cries, seeming to immediately get to work even after Fassad stomps off out of the room.

A slow sigh from the old man. “I don’t understand what the pressure is for. It isn’t like anyone’s going to find out…” He mutters, then opens the capsule for Lucas before he’s rushing over to wrap a towel around him. “Over here. You’ll need to recover before we try again…”

A heavy foot steps from its original place in the capsule. His entire body feels weighted-- as if it’s being dragged down by some unseen force. Lucas follows Andonuts over to a medical bed where he carefully lies himself down.

“You probably won’t like it, but I have to put this on you so you can’t get out of here…” The doctor says in a quiet voice as he places a bracelet around Lucas’ ankle with a small click. Really, though, he’s lost all hope of getting out anyway…

“So, uhh… stay there and… We’ll prepare for your next session sometime tomorrow, okay?”

Slowly and silently, Lucas nods. Andonuts just runs off again to mess with his own equipment as demanded.

***

There’s a quiet hum as the Colonel sifts through a few different blueprints of his set up on a tablet screen. Nonchalantly, he sweeps through a view before finally landing on what he’d been searching for-- then picks his feet off his table to sit in a more proper fashion while he examines it closely and starts making adjustments. Just as a freehand moves to turn on some music, however, there’s a knock at the door that has him looking up instead.

“Come in.”

A moment of silence-- then the door opens up. It’s… Fassad. A smirk crosses his features at the sight of _ that look _ on his face. He knows that look… it’s the one that bastard gives him when he’s proven _ wrong _ on something. “Fassad.” The pigmask smiles, “What brings you here this fine afternoon?”

The Magifolk can’t help but roll his eyes. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“Aww, someone grumpy? Don’t worry, love, you can vent to me.”

At that, Fassad makes a faux gagging sound. “Don’t call me that again.”

A laugh, “Of course, of course-- but… seriously, did you fuck something up again?”

“No…” Hesitance. “...Maybe. Look, you remember that kid that was here?”

The playful smile suddenly melts from his face at that. “What did you do?” The Colonel asks in a low voice, his eyes narrowing.

“Nothing serious-- look. I just… I thought that I’d test him for psychic abilities--”

“_ Fassad-- _”

“And I was _ wrong _, alright? Somehow, I don’t know how, I misjudged him.”

Now he’s being watched closely. The Colonel has hardly relaxed even towards the way Fassad has pretty much dangled a huge chance for an ‘I told you so’ lecture in front of him. “Well, what did you do with him, then?”

“Found out where he lived and sent him back home, obviously. You think I was going to let the freeloader remain in that room consuming our resources due to your own poor time management?”

“I was _ busy _ , alright.” The Colonel retorts, “Not only with the Hummingbird Egg, but with input that some of the researchers wanted on running the different experiments. There’s a reason I had to pass the baton over to a different department in order to manage him without any neglect happening.” A pause, then a sigh. “Anyway, I’m glad you decided to do the right thing for _ once _ , even if you fucked up by going against my request to _ leave him alone _ in the first place. Is that all you’re here to let me know?”

_ He bought it _ . Fassad feels a pretty huge sense of accomplishment at that moment-- almost _ relieving _ in a sense, since it’s incredibly difficult to get away with a lie at any other time. Maybe he should lie to the Colonel when he’s swamped with work more often, eh? “I believe that’s all there is… unless, you already know about Porky’s plans for a music group with those test subjects, correct?”

“The band he wants to form? Yes, I’m already aware.” The Colonel sighs, “If you’re just going to run your mouth about things I already know, then the door’s right behind you. I’m _ busy _.”

“Oh, of course. Sorry for wasting your _ precious time _ .” Fassad hisses, rolling his eyes before he exits the room. On his way to the elevator, however, a slow and wicked smile begins to curl his lips. Yeah. _ Far easier _ than he could’ve even imagined. This is going to be a breeze if Andonuts can step up a little more on _ his _ end of the bargain.


	7. Fib

“Oh… Why isn’t this working?!” Andonuts cries. His hands wildly move about to check over all the different charts and equipment yet again.

Meanwhile, Lucas is on his hands and knees still trying to spit up the leftover substance from his lungs. A part of himself wants to throw up the breakfast he had hours prior to this, though ( but he doubts there’s any food in his system at all at this point ). Whatever this whole ‘mixture’ stuff was about… it definitely just made him feel a lot worse. Is that not what it’s supposed to be doing? Do they even _ know _ what they’re doing…?

That’s when he hears the glass moving away from him.

“Out! Out, out, out--” The doctor chants before he’s moving to physically usher Lucas out of the capsule and over to the bed. Lucas staggers to where he’s shoved before finally dragging his body up onto the bed and lying down with heavy, exhausted breaths. The second time… This is only the second time, and he already isn’t so sure if he can take much more of being in that awful capsule. By the looks of it? He’s probably gonna have to go in _ again _, too…

And so Lucas lies there, hands clinging to the pillow he has for comfort as his eyes flutter closed. One breath… two… three… Gradually, he relaxes overtime to sink into his exhaustion entirely-- and falls into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The feeling is short lived, however, since Andonuts eventually shakes him awake again.

“Up. I need you to do something for me.” He says. Lucas groggily sits up, though at this point he doesn’t exactly have any other choice but to listen anyway.

“Because this isn’t working… Fassad might tear into me. Can you… you know--_ lie _ for me? I- I have this chart right here,” Andonuts says, holding the clipboard up for Lucas to see. The blond takes it and starts to read it silently while Andonuts continues talking. “All I want you to do is answer any of his initial questions with these answers… and you pass. You won’t need to go in the capsule anymore, and _ I _won’t get in any more trouble with him. You understand, don’t you?”

Lucas nods.

“Good, good! Then… remember these things and… everything will go just fine.”

“...What if he don’t ask somethin’ that’s on this chart?” Lucas asks quietly, glancing up towards Andonuts who has this strange sort of stunned expression on his face. What… he _ didn’t _think about that?

“Uh… good question.” Andonuts replies. He begins to pace around slowly to consider it while Lucas looks back to the chart again. By the looks of it, it all just… points back to this ‘Master Porky’ person. How is that weird liquid stuff supposed to help him answer these questions? It’s almost as if he’s some kind of king... but if he’s so revered then why hasn’t anyone ever heard of him before? Lucas has only heard of him a few days ago after however long of this entire mess…

“Okay... Okay,” Andonuts starts, “He probably isn’t going to ask you a lot of questions anyway, just… do what he tells you and you’ll be fine!”

He has to listen to him…? Though Lucas isn’t even aware of it at that point-- he’s definitely grimacing at the thought of having to do so. Fassad’s been horrible and terrifying to be around so far… especially if he messes up- Dr. Andonuts is already this scared of him, isn’t he? But if it’s what the doctor says, then he just has no choice but to do it. 

“...When’s he coming?”

“Tomorrow night…” Andonuts replies, but quickly catches the confused look on Lucas’ face. Right… he hasn’t seen any actual sunlight for a little while now. “You’ll know when. Just-- worry about remembering all this, and… sleep on it.”

A slow blink, then a nod as his gaze falls back to the clipboard to go right back to reading it like before. In spite of the perfectly comfortable silence, though, Lucas can’t help but find himself very hyper aware of Andonuts’ movements. Each click, scrape, and clang from whatever it is he’s trying to organize or tinker with has him completely on edge. He always finds himself glancing up at the little old man when there’s the sound of footsteps from his own nervousness or maybe even caused by him wandering around the room.

In the end, though, even with the situation at hand he starts to slowly find his body being dragged down by a heavy weight that only gets worse over time. He’s probably read the scripts five or ten times over-- maybe more or maybe less, he isn’t entirely sure anymore-- and is beginning to feel the strain of it in his eyes. It isn’t long until his mind begins to slowly shut down and his eyes become too heavy for him to keep open. The blond continues to persist in doing as he’s told, but… After a few slow ‘blinks’, ( they definitely lasted longer than a second or two ) he’s finally lying back in bed and letting the sleep overcome him completely.

***

“Lucas,” A voice whispers. But he’s way too exhausted to respond in the moment. It’s so comfortable here, anyway…

The sound of a slow, quiet breeze is heard all around him as an almost-forgotten warmth envelops him as he lies back in the flowery field. The voice from earlier beckons for him to open his eyes at the very least, but he’s still… until her hand combs through his hand and cups the side of his face.

When his eyes finally start to open- his vision is filled with a warm light. It all takes a moment to adjust before he realises there’s long brown hair flowing out in waves in front of him. Slowly, his gaze follows the trail of hair up to his mother who sits at his side with a gentle smile. “There’s my handsome boy.” Hinawa laughs. Something about the laughter just radiates a sad empty feeling in Lucas’ chest, though.

“Mom…?” He manages out slowly.

“That’s me.” She grins. “I’m glad I got a chance to see you again.”

A silence settles between them momentarily, only the sound of the wind being heard until Lucas decidedly wills himself to sit upright and pull Hinawa into a tight hug. He can’t help but break down sobbing only moments later-- Hinawa is still quiet and carefully holding him close with a hand rubbing his back.

They sit there together for what feels like hours, but Lucas can hardly care at this point. All he wishes he could say is how he messed up-- how sorry he is… He could’ve done something different, couldn’t he-? At the very least, he could’ve stopped Claus somehow… But right now, his voice is trapped somewhere in his throat between the sobs. At the very least, his mom seems just fine with having nothing to say.

Eventually, though…

“...I’m sorry, Lucas.” She whispers.

While Lucas stops to think about just what she means by that-- he feels a last kiss planted on the top of his head before he opens his eyes again to find himself staring at the ceiling and lying right back in that cold, cold room. He carefully sits up, and his gaze turns to find Andonuts busy with something again.

“Oh! You’re awake-- I was just about to wake you up, too…” Andonuts says, then walks over to Lucas with a tray of food. It looks like… dinner, somewhat. Maybe lunch-? “You’ve slept completely through the night and nearly the entire day. Fassad’s going to be here very soon.”

A visible grimace at that. His heart sinks into his stomach while he stares at the tray and decides this is definitely the worst possible time he could’ve chosen to wake up like this. Still, he tries his best to eat the meal before then anyway… he isn’t really sure when he’ll get the next one, now.

“...I don’t think this is gonna work.” Lucas suddenly says, then tears off a tough piece of a biscuit with his teeth.

Andonuts seems a bit startled by it. “...What do you mean?”

Lucas shrugs a bit, “He ain’t really normal or nothin’... I think he’s gonna figure it out…” Slowly, he glances back up to the doctor. “Won’t ya get in even more trouble fer lyin’?”

“That… That’s not gonna happen.” Andonuts says while averting his gaze. It seems like it’s more to reassure himself than anything. “He’d get angry that I failed twice anyway.”

“But at least yer honest, right?”

“No, it’s-- it’s a little more complicated than that…”

Silence. That’s when the doctor looks back to Lucas to find him seemingly dropping the conversation in favour of eating his meal. Though the blond definitely hasn’t dropped it mentally-- for the first time in months, Lucas has confidence in the worst thing yet: a_ punishment _. Nothing but exhaustion shows on his face at the thought, however. Andonuts lets out a breath before he decidedly returns to checking over his own equipment around the lab.

***

It’s roughly three hours since dinner, when Lucas has already fallen back to sleep again (_ not like he has anything better to do anymore.. _.), that Fassad enters the room. Immediately, his eyes fall on Lucas’ limp body. When Andonuts tries to leave, though, a heavy hand lands on his chest to stop him in his tracks before the doctor finds himself spun around and walked towards Lucas again.

“Well?”

Andonuts blinks, eyes wide and frightened before he sets his gaze on anything but the Magifolk’s face. “I-It was successful.”

“Really?” Fassad smiles, “Stay put. You’re not going anywhere.”

The statement is followed up by a pat on his back as the Magifolk steps forward and grabs Lucas by the ankle-- dragging him down and nearly halfway off the bed so that he wakes up with a start. The blond quietly gasps, then sits upright with widened eyes.

There’s a horribly smug look on Fassad’s face, though Lucas barely has the time to register it before he’s getting interrogated. “Who do you serve, boy?”

“I…” He blinks, taking a moment to rub his eyes before looking up to the other. His name, what was his name again…? “...King Porky.”

That’s when a wicked smile crosses Fassad’s face. And though Lucas doesn’t dare to look directly-- he can tell the doctor is sighing in relief at the corner of his vision.

“Perfect.” The Magifolk replies, satisfied. He holds out a hand, which Lucas takes after a moment and is promptly pulled onto unsteady feet. “Welcome to the rest of your pathetic little life, Soldier. I am Fassad, and you’re going to follow every order you are given.” He says, pulling his hand away and marching onward. Lucas stands there, frozen on the spot until he glances at Andonuts who gestures for him to follow… so he does.

“Do I make myself clear, Soldier?” Fassad suddenly spins around then, causing Lucas to flinch and take a step back. After a moment of silence, he nods… but it doesn’t seem like it’s enough. There’s a flare of panic in the blond’s chest when he notices to the displeased look on the Magifolk’s face.

“I don’t hear you.” He growls.

“...Yes, Fassad.” Lucas murmurs.

“_ Sir. _”

“Y...Yes, sir.”

The pause is suffocating for both Lucas and the doctor then-- not knowing if he’s done or said anything wrong in the moment. Lucas tries just looking straight forward and completely ignoring the way he’s being stared down, his jaw tightened with anxiety while the rest of his body is tense and rigid like a frozen deer. Eventually, though, Fassad backs off a bit with a smile which causes Lucas to release a slow breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

“Good. Let’s get started, then.”


	8. Overhaul

“Hello?” Duster calls, though his vision is completely blocked out from the… paper bag over his head? No one seems to reply, so he almost assumes he’s completely alone before a hand suddenly removes the bag. He can’t help feeling hopeful for a split second when it happens-- but just finds himself in an empty room staring at his own and the Pigmask’s reflection in the window in front of him.

“Oh, good. I almost thought you fell asleep or something. You’re very quiet, you know.” The Pigmask remarks.

Duster blinks, then glances around the room. There’s the urge to ask where he is but… why would the umteenth time asking that question ever change the answer? It’s kind of obvious at this point that they don’t plan on telling him or the others anything. So instead, in a moment of brief panic while the Pigmask moves to leave the room-- he speaks up.

“You can’t do this...”

Aaand… it has no effect at all. The Pigmask just walks off and leaves him there, looking like a sad dog expecting something from the door until his head drops with a small sigh.

From the other side of the window, where he can’t see, there’s a room full of different researchers and engineers-- even other Pigmasks watching him.

“Your name, what is it?” One says through the intercom, which causes Duster to look up.

...This again? “Duster. Why do you keep asking that?”

The button is released as a researcher leans back in his seat with a frustrated sigh. Everyone in the room begins to murmur to one another while checking over their data and charts. The Colonel stands in silence with his arms crossed in the meantime as he stares Duster down through the window. Anyone in the room right now could agree this is a tougher puzzle to crack than they’d first thought-- especially the Colonel. There’s no way those Tazmilians could have made something so advanced in the old world, right? Maybe it’s wise they quit underestimating their abilities...

“We’ve tried manipulating it with PSI, haven’t we?” The Colonel asks.

“And we tried specialising certain tools for it.” An engineer adds on, “Do you think it working the first time might’ve been a fluke?”

Slowly, the Colonel shakes his head. “It’s obviously a function that was built into it intentionally. Someone has to know what it does, but it isn’t like we can just read minds…” He trails off in thought then, leaving the others silent in wait for anything new out of him.

Then, he speaks.

“Maybe it worked for him because it has a tie to their people? The people who boarded the White Ship.”

“The… White Ship?” A pigmask asks, confused.

“Yeah.” The Colonel replies, “Back in the old world, there was a pretty small group of people that went against pretty much everything we stood for. We sent a fleet to try stopping them as soon as we saw the White Ship, but it managed to completely disappear from our sight.”

“So… you think the Tazmilians made the Hummingbird Egg?”

“If Duster was able to trigger it by accident but we’re unable to do anything with it at all… Maybe. It’s just a theory, but try getting a sample out of him that we might be able to use-- like a fingerprint. If not, then we can send a few undercovers to get someone that hasn’t already been exposed to us like he has.” It’s much easier to handle if they don’t know anything, after all. “But I’d _ prefer _ if we could just get samples before kidnapping anyone else.”

“Of course, sir.” A pigmask replies with a salute, then walks out of the room. Other researchers return to quietly murmuring to one another while a few engineers leave the room in silence.

The Colonel, however, looks back through the glass at Duster. He watches him carefully as his eyes focus on no one in particular, the Pigmask’s gloved hand tapping against a desk which he leans against.

“...Hello?” Duster calls out. “Anyone there?”

***

Train, fail, punish. Train, fail, punish. It’s all he’s had to endure for the past five nights or so, which Lucas is honestly starting to think is the exact thing that’s detrimental to this whole ‘training’ thing. Every part of him is sore, and it’s just holding him back… unless he’s gone crazy, cause Fassad doesn’t ever seem to consider that as a possibility. Right now, he’s sitting in the grass of the enclosed yard-- quietly wishing he could somehow hop the huge fence and escape into the woods. It’s always night when they come out to train, so it could be possible to get away… if the fence wasn’t so ominous, or if he wasn’t so tired.

He examines his palms in the darkness, just barely able to see the popped blisters which ache and burn. That’s when a faint hand gently takes one of his and his eyes go wide. Visibly confused, his eyes follow up the arm slowly before finding… Hinawa, sitting there right beside him.

“...Mom?”

She offers a sad, pained smile in response before wrapping her arms around him. “I’m so sorry, Lucas.”

The blond is just frozen there, silent until tears start slowly rolling down his face. He gasps a bit and covers his mouth with a hand as his expression twists with discomfort.

“I know… I know.” She says.

“What are you doing?” Fassad asks, causing Lucas to jump and wipe his eyes. When he looks around, though, his mom is nowhere to be seen.

“I-- I… my hands, sir.” Lucas murmurs, slowly lifting his hands for Fassad to see. 

“Your hands? Your hands hurting a little bit is the reason you’re sitting on your butt out here doing nothing? When I give orders, Soldier, I expect you to follow them until I say it’s okay to _ stop. _”

Slowly, he bows his head with a nod, holding his hands to his own chest then. “...Yes, sir.”

There’s a moment of silence between them. Eventually, though, Fassad lets out a huff and turns around. “I don’t have time for this. Follow me, the sun’s going to come up soon.”

Lucas stands then, letting out a quiet groan as he does so before catching up with the Magifolk. Once back into his room, both him and Fassad turn to find Andonuts sleeping at his desk with his head on his work. The Magifolk rolls his eyes, walking towards Andonuts while casually picking up a device Lucas doesn’t recognize on the way to him. It’s… a pole with prongs at the end-?

He gets a good idea of what it does exactly at the ‘ZZT-’ which wakes the doctor with a shout. The old man falls out of his chair which slowly rolls away, then looks up to Fassad who has a smug grin on his face.

“Heh heh… The subject has _ boo boos _. So are you gonna fix it or do you need some more coffee?” To make a point, the loud buzzing noise is produced from the prodder again. Lucas can’t help but flinch at the noise.

“Ahh- no! No, of course not, I have the- uhh- IRD ready, in fact! So… please don’t?” Andonuts says slowly. After a moment, though, he gets another shock to his leg. Fassad gives a loud laugh, wiping a tear from his eye as he tosses the prodder aside. Seems he’s had his fill of fun_ for now _.

“Doesn’t get old… We both know begging doesn’t get you what you want, Andonuts.” He says, then turns and exits the room. The doctor and blond are left in silence then, Lucas watching closely as Andonuts gets up and climbs back into his chair with a slight struggle.

“...Are ya okay?” He asks, quiet.

“No, I’m not okay!” Andonuts cries, crossing his arms with a pout as he taps his foot agitatedly. “That… _ fiend _ is the worst. I hope he gets what’s coming to him… Ah, come over here. Show me what’s wrong.” He gestures with one hand while the other pulls a first aid kit out from one of the drawers. Lucas reluctantly draws near and holds out his hands which are promptly taken to be disinfected. He winces slightly at the rough, frustrated way the doctor wipes at the blisters.

“That hurts.” Lucas murmurs, but it doesn’t seem to catch Andonuts’ attention.

“You have no idea. And Fassad thinks it’s _ funny _ for some reason…” He sighs, “Why do these things always happen to me?”

There’s a slight frown from Lucas at that, but it isn’t long before the doctor’s dressing the wounds and standing to walk him towards a… large machine, one that almost reminds him of the capsule but not quite. It isn’t mostly glass, and the door has that weird looking pig nose symbol on it he’s seen a few times before.

“This is the IRD, also known as the Instant Revitalizing Device. It isn’t… _ actually _ instant yet, but it still should help speed up the healing process a lot more.” The doctor explains while opening the door for Lucas.

“...Is it gonna fill up with water or sumthin’....?” Lucas asks with a worried expression, and is honestly surprised to find Andonuts shaking his head. Still has his doubts, though. Everything in this place has just been torture and he doesn’t see any reason for this to be different.

“It’s mostly just fancy lights and vibrations. If you don’t like the light then I just suggest closing your eyes.”

“...Okay.” He says, though he’s wary even as he steps inside and the door shuts behind him.

In the end, it just so happens to turn out that Andonuts is right about what the machine does. By the time he’s out, he feels far better than when he’d gone in. The bed that night ( or morning, Lucas isn’t exactly so sure of either anymore ) is mostly comfortable for the first time in… who _ knows _how long. Though his dreams are plagued with the ghost of his own mother while he sleeps.

When Lucas’ eyes open again, he’s greeted by no one else in the room… except for Hinawa, just sitting there at the foot of his bed. The blond blinks, rubs his eyes, and looks up to see that she’s vanished again. It honestly doesn’t even make sense… is it really her, or is he just making it all up somehow-? If it is her… well, having her come back only to be ripped away moments later so persistently is making him feel so much worse than better. It’s just a reminder… everything he lost is taunting him-- even his own mom. He sure looks like an embarrassment right now, doesn’t he? All this lying just to protect some stupid doctor he doesn’t even know. The worst part is that he’s seen the other chimera… They all looked eerily related to the Drago in ways he surely wouldn’t like to admit.

Lucas is suddenly jolted from his thoughts when Andonuts is placing something over his lap, his hands suddenly pulled up into the air. It’s a moment for his eyes to refocus and actually process what’s in front of him, which is… breakfast. Huh.

In spite of everything… getting food’s the one thing he can’t really complain about. Lately ( on the days when he actually _ has _ an appetite ) Lucas can never seem to realise how hungry he actually is until the first bite is taken. Today is no different, since he’s eating at a slightly quicker pace than usual.

“You’re up early today. I wasn’t expecting that…” Andonuts starts, causing Lucas to look up at him then.

“...Well, yeah. It’s that fancy machine ah yers, is all…” A slight cough to clear his throat. Briefly, his mouth opens as if to continue… but his eyes soften and he goes right back to focusing on his meal again. The doctor happily allows the silence in the meantime.

Once finishing though, Lucas’ mind wanders in the midst of the silence. At first it’s nothing but neutral and nearly blank, but… then his gaze settles on the doctor. That’s when many other things come to the front of his thoughts in order to slowly be realised one by one.

Before he can even speak, though, Andonuts catches the look he’s given, and simply gestures over to an area on his desk. “Set the tray over here. I’ll take care of it later.”

Lucas blinks and looks at his empty tray… Right. He’d almost forgotten entirely about it somehow. Shuffling his way out of bed with the tray, he slowly and quietly makes his way to the desk, and then… His eyes are directly on the doctor. He wants to say something… should he say something?

But the words are already tumbling out of his mouth before he has time to prepare.

“...Dr. Andonuts?”

“Yes?” Andonuts replies with a hum.

Lucas averts his eyes then, his hands wiping at his own clothes anxiously as his words are suddenly caught in his throat. What next? Does he even want to know…? There’s a slight flinch when he realises Andonut’s is looking at him now due to the silence from his own hesitation. The blond locks eyes with him briefly before he’s staring into the floor.

“...Those animals I see all caged up down here… Why’re they… like that?”

“Oh, well…” The doctor looks back to a form he seems to be filling out. “It was the King’s orders. For his new empire, he wants all the animals to be improved or revised in some way to make them stronger. ‘Chimera’ is what they’re called.”

“Do…” A pause, “....Do _ you _ make them?”

“Not all of them.” Andonuts replies, “But some, yes.”

With a slow rise and fall of his chest, Lucas begins wringing his hands, his gaze pensive yet filled with dread. “... Did you make a Drago?”

“Yes, actually.” Andonuts answers. Something that makes Lucas’ stomach sink with an icy cold suddenness. “She was far too strong though. We had her one moment but she broke out the next and caused a whole scene. Why do you ask?”

That stupidly unaware look on his face strikes a pang of anger in him then-- Lucas’ eyes beginning to well up with tears. He doesn’t know? Why doesn’t he know? The doctor seems to catch on after a moment of silence, but by the time he realises it seems like it’s too late. There’s a very clearly hurt look on the child’s face.

“...Oh, I…” He blinks as he watches Lucas’ expression. “...That was... _ you? _”

The question brings on a strange feeling in his chest he’s entirely unfamiliar with just then. It’s a painful feeling-- hot and uncomfortable but still so_ hurt _. His eyes widen suddenly before having to blink while tears run down his face, bottom lip quivering with his hands turning to closed, shaking fists.

“Why..?”

Andonut’s blinks, slowly backing up in his chair as he watches Lucas. “Because Porky forced me too. I had no _ choice _ in any of this-- you’ve seen how Fassad is, haven’t you-?”

“There… There was something you coulda done!” He shouts, his voice breaking from straining itself with the volume. “I… It’s unfair. You… You _ killed _\--”

“I-I didn’t!” Andonuts interrupts, holding a finger towards Lucas as he slowly stands from his chair. “It- It was an accident! These things happen, which is truly horrible but it wasn’t something I could control and therefore out of my hands! You’re too young to understand now, but there’s a point where it’s simply _ no longer _ my responsibility.”

“You killed her… I…” It’s Lucas’ turn to start backing away from Andonuts then. A choked sob makes its way from his throat, but he pushes himself to keep talking. “What am I _ doing _…?”

Another silence settles between them then, nothing but the sound of Lucas’ quiet sobs taking the space while Andonuts is in a desperate search to find some new excuse or remark to try to calm the boy down. But it’s far from enough time.

“It ain’t fair. I’m… I’m lying so you ain’t gonna get hurt-- and you _ killed _ my mom…?”

“It was an _ accident _\--” Andonuts repeats, “I… I really am sorry what happened. I had no idea. You- Y-You have to believe me. I…”

“What’s going on here?”

The new voice causes both Andonuts and Lucas to stop talking in an instant. Lucas, though, begins to meekly back away as Fassad comes forward: marching directly towards a frantic Andonuts.

“I said: what the _ hell _ is going on here, Andonuts?!”

“I- I- I…” The doctor stammers and looks around the room before a heavy hand grasps his jaw and forces him to look at Fassad directly.

“I’m looking for an _ answer _, doctor.” He hisses out, his eyes narrowing.

But he doesn’t get any response… so he looks directly at Lucas then-- his hand beginning to slacken away from Andonuts. Lucas is frozen on the spot then. He stares the Magifolk down in return within that moment even as he moves to approach him, but…

“I… I was lying!” Andonuts blurts out suddenly. “It failed again, so I had him pretend to be the Soldier--”

“That’s what I thought…” Fassad purrs, a grin on his face as he continues in Lucas’ direction. The blond just keeps watching-- then flinches when the other’s hand is raised… before Andonuts runs over to grab his arm. It immediately proves to be a mistake, however, when Fassad shoves him hard enough to send him stumbling.

“Knock it off!” Fassad shouts, “You’re not a _ hero _, Andonuts. You’re just a loser scientist that no one loves. And one that doesn’t even follow basic protocol!”

Lucas is quiet and still before Fassad looks right back at him again. That’s when he begins to back away-- until the Magifolk catches him by the arm. “Come on, don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“No… don’t-- please don’t do this.” Lucas mutters quietly while jerking and tugging himself away, but Fassad continues to pull. Panicked, his eyes flick around the room for… _ something _. Anything. “Stop it…” He tries. But there’s still no response.

“_ ...Stop! _” Lucas finally shouts as he gives a final, hard tug away. But it's mostly the sudden wave of PK Love that startles Fassad enough to let go of him. Once he hits the floor, he scrambles to his feet and continues backing away from the Magifolk. “I-- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

“Hehehe-- _ Not bad _ , boy.” Fassad mutters, beginning to stride towards Lucas. “But it’s still so far from _ good _.”

“No. No, please don’t-” PSI energy sparks from his hands as he holds them out in front of himself.

“I don’t think you’re getting it-- you don’t have a _ choice _ anymore. You’re a chosen one, a gift that was handed right to us… and I’m not going to let this kind of opportunity get away from me!”

Fassad charges right for him, and Lucas moves to run around him-- but is caught at the last second. There’s a strangled cry as the Magifolk jerks his entire body in front of him before clasping a hand over his head, his eyes completely blocked out. “You want this the hard way? Fine.”

Darkness. Pins and needles. _ Pain _…

It all sloshes around in a twisted mess. He can barely register the amount of emotion and thought which all comes flooding in at once.

_ “… L… U… C… A… S…” _

It speaks.

_ Chills. _

And the doctor swears he saw the exact moment where it all caved in within an instant.

Dr. Andonuts looks on in silent horror at the sight of Lucas wordlessly clawing Fassad’s arm with shaking hands-- still sparking with PSI in weak attempts to get him to _ let go _ . Luckily, it doesn’t last long, and his arms fall limp to his sides… but Dr. Andonuts finds himself backing away when Lucas sits down hard on the floor and Fassad turns to look at him with crazed eyes. All earlier concern for the child’s well being is forgotten in an instant. Is this it? _ Is he going to end up like that-? _

“See? It honestly works so much better than trying to induce it artificially.” Fassad laughs as he approaches the doctor.

Andonuts is frozen on the spot, as much as he’d like to run away at this very moment.

“He won’t be a problem anymore. Have him stabilised.” The Magifolk says and pats the other hard on the back, then leaves the room.

Slowly, Dr. Andonuts looks towards the door where Fassad had left, then back to Lucas’ quietly sitting self.

“Oh, and Andonuts?” Fassad calls, causing the doctor to flinch.

“We’re gonna have some friendly chit chat later about professionalism in the workplace.”

The door shuts again. And all Andonuts can manage is a long, long _ sigh _… 


	9. Happy Town?

“Flint…”

…

“...Flint!” 

He blinks with a moment of suddenness at the voice, finding himself staring into a lowball glass. The whiskey is still in it. When he glances up, though, Jackie is watching him closely with a concerned look and a hand on his shoulder. 

“...I think you should maybe just take that with you and head back home. You’ve been starin’ at it fer an hour now… And, um… some people are a little uncomfortable.”

“Oh. Sure…” Flint murmurs. There’s a sort of disbelief that he’s been staring that long, having failed to notice the ice has completely melted since he first got the glass. He’s only been here for a few minutes, hasn’t he? Jackie probably just doesn’t want him making a scene. Who could blame him… Flint doesn’t want himself making another scene, either.

The hat currently at his side is placed back onto his head and adjusted while he gives a quiet word of goodbye. His eyes are focused on the ground still even as he leaves, feeling a sense of shame strong enough that he’d rather not see the looks anyone might be giving him at the moment. Maybe he really is being too much for everyone. What was he even doing there..? Being a poor excuse for a father, probably… What’s Claus supposed to think about his dad hiding at an Inn to avoid everyone? Before the temptation to dump the glass on the ground hits him, he drinks all the whiskey in a few swallows.

The strange taste is noticed quickly… which brings on the realization that Jackie was telling the_ truth _. Flint slows to a near stop to examine the glass in silence. He honestly can’t tell if it’s better or worse that he was sitting there for so long. It’s probably pathetic. Hinawa wouldn’t…

A slow sigh, and he just keeps walking the rest of his way back home.

By the time Flint’s home, though, he’s greeted with an eager Boney coming out of his dog house to lick his leg. There’s a slight smile on the man’s face at that.

“Hey bud,” He starts, patting Boney, “What are you doing outside..?”

...What_ is _he doing outside? It’s night, and usually Claus would have him in the house… Flint looks up towards the door then, stepping inside to set down his glass and look around the house to find Claus… nowhere at all. That’s when a sinking feeling drops in his stomach. He was so sure that Claus was here. Where would he go? It’s the middle of the night-- he wouldn’t leave just like that, would he? In a hurry, he lights a lantern to carry and heads outside to Boney again. “You know where Claus might’ve gone, boy?”

At that, Boney makes an odd vocal noise, then starts sniffing around before heading off in one direction. There’s only a slight relief that comes over him-- though he’s still extremely tense. He’s already lost Hinawa, lost Lucas, _ almost _ lost Claus once… It can’t happen again. It can’t be happening again. His son is all he has left; and he was spending that time fiddling around at a _ bar _ of all places. Flint nearly trips over himself suddenly, which both sends him out of his thoughts and triggers Boney to turn around and check on him.

“No, no-- keep going.” Flint instructs, to which the dog follows and continues on their trail. The man then sighs, dragging a hand down his face.

He can’t help but feel a gradual rise in fear as they eventually leave the town… towards the Murasaki Forest. There’s no real reason for him to have gone there, so it just serves to make his thoughts race ( more than they already have been ). Claus is pretty known for wandering off where he shouldn’t be, Flint knows that, but after everything…

It probably takes a good minute or so for Flint to notice Boney’s low growl, on top of the fact their pace has slowed to a stop. The man holds his lantern out in front of him to try and get a better look of what’s making Boney so nervous, and what he sees is… well, how can he even describe it? It’s a… caribou, large and stumbling around in the darkness. A burst of steam comes from it once it spots them, which causes Boney’s hackles to rise and for Flint to take a step back. When it marches forward though, it suddenly cries out after a certain point and leaps backwards before running off in another direction until they can’t see it anymore. Boney steps in front of Flint protectively after that, but he’s still in a reeling silence.

Claus had mentioned the Drago, how it looked… It was difficult to see in the darkness beneath the trees-- but he could’ve sworn that caribou had some sort of metal attached to it. There was a glowing blue shimmer where its eye should’ve been, too… His gaze falls to Boney, then he kneels to pet him gently.

“It’s awright now, boy. We gotta keep searchin’.” 

There’s a moment of silence between them after that, but after enough encouragement Boney seems to start on his trail again. Flint is much more watchful and focused on his surroundings then; and it’s about an hour later into their walk that he decides to stop and look over to dim light coming from a clearing in the trees. Enough measured steps closer, and he realises that it’s an unusual building. The most noticeable ( and honestly most horrifying ) thing about it is the strange creature-like thing that hangs above the front doors with dead eyes. The entire area is surrounded by large, menacing gates to top it off. It’s simply nothing like he’s ever seen before. The light doesn’t come from the building itself, though… it’s from a light being carried by someone else walking around it. But then it stops in place.

Hurriedly, Flint blows out the wick in his lantern and squats behind brush while hugging Boney close to watch the person’s flashlight pass over them. Luckily, they don’t seem to spot them since the beam of light points back to where it had been before… and then he’s looking at Boney again. What should they do…? Is Claus in that building or somewhere else? Boney seemed to be pointing a different way before this happened, however, so that couldn’t be it…

The pair sit in complete silence with Flint watching the figure closely. After he disappears, though, the cowboy lets out an audible sigh and stands. But they only manage to walk for another minute until a light is shining directly on their backs.

“Hey. What are you doing out here?”

The way he talks is immediately noticeable due to his accent-- it’s difficult to describe, but it’s definitely a lot different from the way a Tazmilian speaks. Slowly, Flint turns and finds himself face to face with a very large man-- much taller and bulkier than him. It’s difficult to make out his features in the shadows, but he’s got a very interesting hairstyle for sure… Looks like something is smeared across his face, too.

Boney lets out a low growl which causes the flashlight to turn directly onto him.

“Oh shit, you have a dog?” The man asks. Flint can almost hear the smile in his voice.

“Err… yeah.” A pause, “I’m… uhh, lookin’ fer someone. Pardon my intrusion but, uh, I ain’t never seen you before.”

“Oh, yeah-- I’m Ajax.” The man replies. The way he squats to try to carefully approach Boney seems to betray the gruffness in his voice. There’s a curse under his breath when Boney nips at him and causes him to stand upright again. “Damn good dog you got there, eh?” He tries, but when all he gets is silence-- he clears his throat to make another attempt. “It isn’t very safe here, you know. Especially at night.”

“I figured.” Flint mutters.

And then they’re staring at each other awkwardly once again-- getting absolutely nowhere.

“Well… who’re you looking for?”

“Claus. He’s got red hair, green eyes, and freckles… I… he’s just a kid, Ajax. Only one I got.” His voice breaks slightly with desperation that he can’t control, barely noticing the way the other man’s eyes soften at it.

“...Well… sorry for being frank, but…” There’s a long pause that follows as his gaze drifts in search of just what exactly to say. “You look like shit. And I can’t let you go any further cause there’s a chi- er-- too many _ weird _ animals out right now. Besides, I know his name and what he looks like. I’ll get him back home for you. I promise.”

“No, ya don’t understand…” Flint sighs and turns on his heel to keep going-- but then he runs right into the man who’s now swiftly stepped in his path. 

“I understand that if you’re out stumbling in the darkness, then you won’t protect your kid. You can barely even protect yourself.” That’s when he takes Flint’s shoulders-- Flint tensing up, expecting the worst-- and spins him back around before nudging him back in the direction he came from. He stumbles forward… but then turns back around to try going past Ajax before he’s spun and pushed a second time.

“...Knock it off!” Flint huffs in frustration. Just as he turns the third time, however, Ajax is already moving into his space with his hands squeezing his arms, now. He leans in close enough that Flint can note the differences in his eyes now… the thing smeared on his face isn’t a smear, either. It looks like a large, jagged scar running from his cheek all the way to his forehead.

“I promise that you’re gonna regret it if you keep going forward. This is for your sake and for your son’s sake. Turn around. And. _ Leave. _”

The cowboy stands there in complete silence, his eyes widened ever so slightly-- mouth shut tight yet his expression is twisted with enough emotion that speaks thousands of words to Ajax. In that moment, all he can offer is a quiet sigh and a single pat to Flint’s shoulder before he releases hold and steps back. Nothing is shared between them then beyond wordless tension hanging in the air even as Flint calls Boney back and begins walking away. Once he’s finally out of sight, though, Ajax lets out a relieved sigh.

“That actually worked…”

***

Flint struggles to rest easy that night. He’s left sitting in his quiet house-- torn between going back to the Inn for another drink to ease his nerves or staying put to make sure he doesn’t miss when Claus might come back to him. The latter wins out in the end, though, because he finds himself wandering around all night or occasionally lying in bed before he notices the sky becoming lighter after some point.

With a final sigh, Flint slumps back in the recliner and lets his hat fall over his face. Before he can fall asleep, though, Boney’s ears lift and he trots over to the door curiously. It’s only moments later that it clicks open and Claus quietly walks inside to be greeted by an eager dog with a wagging tail on his hind legs.

“Hey boy…” The ginger whispers with a smile as he pets him. That’s when Flint suddenly looks up then- his hat nearly launched from him before he fumbles to catch it and place it back on his head.

“What… Where’ve you been all night?” He starts and pulls himself up out of his chair to walk towards Claus. And all he gets in response… is a _ shrug _.

“Ain’t nothin’ important. Thought you was out mindin’ yer own business with all yer _ buddies _.” He replies with a wry smile, shutting the door behind him.

There’s a pause at that-- Flint almost hesitating to get any closer then, before he decidedly pays it no mind in favour of pulling Claus into a tight hug. Flint can hear the confused noise from his son, but he hardly cares at the moment. It’s just Claus right now. That’s all that matters… he shouldn’t have left. _ Of course _ he shouldn’t have left, why would he just leave thinking Claus was safe to sleep by himself at a time like this?

“You scared me, Claus…” He murmurs. And in that moment, there’s nothing but silence between them beyond Flint’s quiet tears beginning to wet his son’s shoulder as he kneels further down for a more comfortable position to keep him for even longer in his grasp.

As soon as Claus’ chest begins to give way to a shudder, however, Flint finds the ginger grunting and writhing to push himself away from his grip. The man slowly lets go and looks up to find Claus wearing a frustrated expression-- something he’s about to address, but he’s beaten to it.

“When’d you turn into such a baby?” Claus laughs a bit as an attempt to break the tension. The earlier look from before seems to have melted away completely in an instant, which honestly leaves Flint at a loss on how to react. They only exchange looks that neither can quite translate in their minds-- Flint eventually averting his gaze and adjusting his hat while he stands back up again.

“Claus… This is... _ serious _ .” He starts slow, his voice quiet with near-disbelief at the other’s reaction. “The animals ain’t actin’ right-- they ain’t _ lookin’ _ right. It’s dangerous for you to just go wanderin’ off like that alone.”

“So?”

“So-?” Flint parrots back, “...What’s gotten into you?”

“Wha… I could say the same to you!” Claus frowns. “Yer actin’ like I’m all fragile and can’t handle myself. I’m twelve! I think I’m old enough t’ decide whether takin’ a walk is too dangerous fer me or not!”

At that, the man’s face falls with a sigh. “It ain’t that simple, Claus…”

“Then quit makin’ it harder than it’s gotta be! I got a brain don’t I? And I ain’t standin’ around here cryin’ over nothin’--”

“You don’t--”

“_ Yer right! _ I don’t gotta deal with this. I’m leavin’-- and I’m takin’ Boney _ with _ me.” Claus says as he opens the door.

“...No you ain’t, Claus. I think we need to talk--” Flint starts as he’s about to force the door shut again, but then Claus sticks his head and shoulder in the space between the door and the frame which causes his dad to stop short suddenly.

“I ain’t talkin’ to ya till ya stop bein’ so _ weird _. Come on Boney.” He calls before slipping out the door with Boney following behind him.

And for a moment, that’s all Flint knows what to say in the matter… Of course, until he finds something else to say. The man walks outside to find Claus still in sight.

“Claus!” He calls out. There’s no sign of him stopping, but he knows he can hear him anyway.

“...I love you!”

But there’s no reply yet again. Guess he should’ve expected that… Though he can’t help letting his head drop from the sinking feeling in his chest regardless. A quiet sigh.

“_ ...Please be safe. _”


	10. Sunrise

It’s been a few days since that argument. Nothing else has sparked up since. For Claus, it doesn’t seem like much of a big deal to him; but to Flint it’s a point of deep worry. They’re at least speaking, which is somewhat a relief to him… even if he’s been home less often than usual.

There’s some hope that today will be different, which is why the cowboy walks alone along the outskirts of Tazmily, just before the sunrise is able to peek over the horizon. He gathers nuts and berries in peace like any other day. Of course, until it  _ isn’t _ like any other day. Before he knows it, his gaze is catching the sight of a crumpled up ball in the midst of the bushes. That’s when he takes a curious step forward for a closer look, then finds himself nearly stepping on something hard, which causes him to look straight to the ground instead.

Flint pulls his food back to reveal a hard, circular object that’s been nearly smashed into dirt. When he picks it up and wipes it off, however, it looks like a… badge of some kind? His eyes flutter slightly from his confusion before he decidedly pockets it to worry about later. His original goal is nearly forgotten momentarily by the strangeness of the other, but then he’s carefully reaching into the bush to pull out the crumpled ball next. It’s an incredibly odd material, something he swears he’s never felt or seen before now. Slick and hard--  _ almost _ like a thin sheet of metal, though not quite-- yet gives way to the slightest touch or manipulation. Once it’s finally been straightened out again, however, it reads ‘pork rinds’.

...Huh.

He pauses so he can stare at the colorful packaging before he finally folds the bag and pockets that too. Flint stands up straight then, with his eyes slowly taking the time to watch his surroundings. Nothing else strange stands out to him, however, so he checks over what he’s gathered in his basket before heading back into the town.

And of course… he winds up standing patiently at Caroline’s doorstep.

The set of knocking Flint does is gentle, since he’d rather not wake her in a bad way too soon in the morning. To his surprise, though, he finds her drawing back her curtain to look at him through the window-- his only response being to give her an awkward smile and wave. Curtains swept closed, door handle turning… it’s safe to say he’s in the clear.

“You almost had me frightened, Flint! What’s got you comin’ round here so early in the mornin’?” Caroline asks.

“...Er-- it ain’t nothin’ much. It’s just…” He holds up the basket for her to see.

“Nuts n’ blueberries? You want me to make this for ya?”

“Oh-- no, ma’am,” Flint is quick to shake his head, “It’s, er… I was hopin’ you could teach me how tah make this bread. I ain’t got the talent to do it on my own… If that’s awright with ya.”

To that, Caroline smiles warmly. “Of course, Flint. Step inside.”

The man nods. And before long he’s removing his hat as he quietly enters her home, prepared to begin cooking by rolling up his sleeves. Before he attempts to touch anything, though, Caroline swats his hands. “What do ya think yer doin’, mister?”

“Bakin’?” A pause at the way she tilts her head and raises a brow expectantly. “...That’s what I assumed, anyway.”

“You ain’t touchin’ nothin’ until you’ve washed your hands, hon’. I can see the dirt under your nails.” She says, pouring fresh water into the basin and handing the bar of soap to him. 

He clears his throat of any embarrassment that begins ( he doesn’t really have any way to argue the fact it completely slipped his mind, and she’s definitely got him dead to rights with this ) and silently accepts the soap, sort of meek. It doesn’t take too long before he winds up finding himself kneading bread dough with Caroline hovering over him to make sure all goes well. After she stops him, they let it stand in silence... Until Caroline decides to speak up, however.

“...How’s Claus been, Flint?”

“Claus? He… well.” The cowboy’s quick to stop himself from speaking in that moment, which earns a look of concern from Caroline. As soon as he notices, however, he waves dismissively. “It’s just been weird… all  _ this _ .” Flint murmurs, his hand waving around in the air towards nothing in particular.

“...Right.” She replies in a quiet voice. “I hope Lucas turns up soon one’a these days.”

Hearing her say that just causes him to fall silent and unresponsive, which Caroline seems to eventually notice was a mistake. When he eventually slides the bread into the oven, he refuses to really engage with her after that enough so that he places his hat atop his head and steps outside. Flint is far more glad for the deep breath of fresh air rather than the suffocating tension built inside the house. The sun seems to be rising pretty quick, though… He hopes he can make it before Claus decides to go running off somewhere else again.

Then the door opens, which in turn snaps him out of his languor. “Flint,” Caroline says, holding the basket out to him. “It’s done. And I thought I’d say that I’m sorry if I brought up somethin’ bad in ya. I didn’t mean no harm by it… I know it’s a sensitive topic.”

The man blinks as he takes the basket, then looks inside to find warm bread that’s completely finished somehow. He’d only intended to step out for a brief moment. How long has he been standing here…?

“It’s awright, ma’am.” He reassures, adjusting his hat. “Pardon me for cuttin’ this short, but I better be headin’ back home.”

Following a polite wave and nod, Flint begins his walk back home all while overhearing different chatter of some early risers beginning as he passes on through. His head turns slightly when he notices a few new strangers he’s never seen in town before. Must’ve hailed from somewhere else… He can worry about the inevitable gossip and introductions later, though.

When Flint finally gets home and steps inside, he’s relieved to find Claus still there-- awake and fighting his own hair with a comb. The sight can’t help but make the old cowboy smile a bit. His attention is turned to setting the basket on the table and retrieving the loaf from inside. In an instant, he finds Claus right beside him on his tip-toes.

“Ohhh, what’d ya get? It smells good.” The ginger says, bouncing eagerly on his heels.

“Breakfast.” Flint replies.

“From Miss Caroline?” He looks up towards Flint, then.

The man nods, then heads towards the kitchen to retrieve plates and silverware. By the time he comes back, though, Claus is already picking pieces from the loaf and shoving them in his mouth.

“ _ Hey, _ ” Flint laughs as he sets a plate in front of Claus, “Thought I taught ya better manners than this.”

“What?! When a man’s hungry, he’s  _ hungry! _ ” Claus pouts. To that, Flint shakes his head in an amused denial. He proceeds with cutting slices of bread which he splits between them both to eat.

“And a  _ strong _ man’s got respect. Havin’ manners is a big part of that, you know.” He says. “Yer a  _ strong _ young man...  _ Aren’t _ ya, Claus?”

Claus pouts at that, tapping his fingers impatiently on the tabletop with the expression of a begging dog. Flint pushes air through his nose at the sight.

“You always got permission tah eat, Claus.”

The ginger lets out a weird growling noise in excitement in reply, picking up his silverware to start digging into the bread. Flint follows his lead soon after, which leads to a calm, quiet moment together. The first he can say he’s enjoyed in a long time, if he’s being honest. It only lasts so long though, because he’s eventually gathering their dishes and stacking them onto the kitchen counter to deal with later. Claus  _ almost _ sneaks out in the process… if it wasn’t for him catching it first.

“Hey, can ya wait a second? We need tah walk Boney, n’ I could really use it.” 

When Claus agrees to it, Flint is relieved. Though it also makes him rush himself a little more for the sake of being worried about whether or not his son is suddenly going to change his mind while waiting.  _ Thankfully _ , he doesn’t.

The two are off on their walk, with Claus chatting up a storm to Boney about whatever random topics cross his mind and Flint happy to listen in silence. The sun’s since risen over the islands to provide a warm light against the chilled air from the sea. For the first time, Flint thinks, everything seems like it’s going to be okay in the end. That’s how he should already be thinking though, shouldn’t he?

“It’s always so nice out here first thing in th’ morning.” The cowboy says as they get closer to the overlook. “If we got out here sooner in the morning, I reckon the sunrise would be a beautiful sight.”

“...Yeah. Guess yer right.” Claus replies. Flint can pretty much tell he’s giving it no serious thought, but he doesn’t really mind. Claus has always been that type that doesn’t quite stop to smell the flowers. But maybe that’s exactly why he’s so worried. He hasn’t seen his kid reacting very much at all to everything they’ve lost. That can’t be healthy, can it? Doesn’t seem like it should be, anyway.

As they walk closer towards the edge of the cliffside, that’s when he begins to consider his chance. At least to offer-- he silently swears he won’t talk about it anymore after this if that’s what Claus insists.

“...You know I just want ya to be okay, right?” Flint says, slow. When he looks over, however, he can see Claus’ eyes already being glazed over by his disinterest.

“Yeah.” The ginger replies in a flat, quiet voice.

“...Yer always welcome to talk to me about anything, is all. .Just thought I’d put that out there for ya.”

“I know, dad.” He replies, and Flint swears he can hear a touch of annoyance to his tone.

It’s seemingly confirmed when they wind up only standing there a few more minutes before Claus takes a deep breath of air and starts walking back. When Flint turns to follow him however, Claus tells him exactly what he’s dreaded to hear.

“Don’t follow me. I’m gonna hang out with Fuel.”

“Oh… Okay. Be safe.”

…He completely messed that up, didn’t he? And now Flint is helpless to watch his son’s back turned to him until slowly but surely, it’s all just a memory to him. The man stands there with Boney in silence aside from Boney’s occasional whines while seemingly taking notice of his mood. He’s lost track of the time once again, not remembering how long ago he decided to sit silently in the grass with the canine lying against him. When he comes to again, the sun’s position has changed and he can feel it beating down against him. It’s hard to find the energy to move, however.

That’s until Lighter comes and rubs his shoulder. When Flint looks up and notices, he’s very quick to get to his feet. Briefly, he stumbles over himself in search of an explanation. That’s all up until Lighter shakes his head.

“Let’s just head back.” He says. Flint nods numbly in response to the instructions, though his feet are heavy, planted in one spot before Lighter’s urging him forward with a firm push against his back.

“I… I’m sorry for this.” Flint mutters.

“It ain’t no skin off my back. I reckon you oughta reconsider the spots you pick tah freeze at, though.”

His gaze lowers straight to the ground after that. And before long Flint has to wipe his eyes to fight against the tears threatening to fall while they walk. As soon as the other notices, however, they come to a slow halt with Lighter placing a firm hand on Flint’s shoulder in reassurance.

“He’s all I have left.” Flint mutters. _ “I feel like I’m losin’ him, Lighter...” _

“He ain’t goin’ nowhere, Flint.” He says while briefly squeezing the other’s shoulder, then switching to patting the back of it instead. “Give it some time. I’m sure he’ll come around.”


End file.
